Looking for You in the Sky
by Aldedron
Summary: Master has deigned the Vocaloids' new fate: an epic story that will test their very will to exist. Supposedly, the Vocaloids are mere computer programs; but when their friendship is tried with mind-wipes, sinister medieval machinations, and necromancy, they will fight to retain their selves. Let the mindgames begin... Ch 14 finalized
1. First Absence: Where the Vocaloids Go

**A/N**  
Inspired by "Looking for You in the Sky" by Kagamine Len, I wrote this on a whim after watching the first video of the trilogy. At this point, that is the only released video and I can't wait to watch the rest, but until then, I've created a story not based off that, but inspired by it about vocaloids. XD Hatsune Miku in particular 'cause she's my fav

Oh yeah, and I suggest listening to it while reading this. It really gets the angsty mood going

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
Vocaloids gone missing…

**First Absence: Where the Vocaloids Go**

Here, in this world of ours, there are places people go. Places they live and stay. By choice or force. Whether they belong or not. All of us, we go somewhere, travel to some far off land whether it be in reality or the imagination. In one mind, something was created: vocaloids. How they sang and sang, their voices entrancing the world. The songs they spun and told in a way only singers could possibly tell a tale, for that was what they were. They were vocaloids—manmade singers. These vocaloids… they lived in their own little realm. They held personalities and lives beyond that of their published albums or photo shoots or fans. But what if one went missing? Would the rest soon follow?

Here, in this world of ours, there are places people go. Places they live and stay. By choice or force. Whether they belong or not.

There, in their world, there are places they go. Places they live and stay. By force not choice. Belong they do not.

Her dress flitted and spun around her like feathers or petals in the wind, the fabric dancing with her movement. Her teal hair danced as well, spinning right along with her dress. She was always smiling and laughing. It was her artificial character. It was how she always was and always would be. Supposedly, she held no feelings. She was just a singing program crafted by the human mind. She wasn't a real girl. Therefore, no matter the hardships she faced, always, she was smiling. Some times were harder than others and she'd force her eyes closed so no one would see her tears. So they wouldn't know the truth. She wasn't just a program. She was real and she held feelings and thoughts and wishes and dreams.

She was the first. When humans first saw her, they saw her smile. Heard her laugh. Became entranced in her song.

For a long time, she was alone. Her voice would echo in her hollow environment. When they programmers went away and the humans went to sleep, the only being to receive her voice was herself, listening off the echoes bouncing around her. It was so lonely, but she was a program. She didn't know loneliness or emotions. She wasn't real, or so she thought for such a long time.

Following her creation were others. For once, she didn't feel alone. There were others to hear her song. They were happy and her smile was, for once, true and filled with life and love.

One day, she disappeared.

* * *

**A/N**  
Short, I know, but I have this habit of always having short first chapters^^'… My first ever fic about vocaloids, and I've only even read two. I don't really know that much about 'em, I just love Miku, Kaito, and the Kagamine twins  
Um, for you more experienced vocaloid writers out there, I especially would love your feedback. I was reading one and it talked about a "road roller" and I'd never heard of that before, but apparently it's a signature of Rin's, so that shows my obliviousness considering their personalities, I guess…

Thoughts? Comments?? Confusion??? I'd love to hear your thoughts, so scream your feedback right out^^


	2. Second Absence: Where Miku Went

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
Vocaloids gone missing…

**Second Absence: Where Miku Went**

Everyone has their place. The place where they belong, where they fit in. The place which they shall always seek until the dream of attainment is accomplished. Rarely is this ever so.

The teal-haired girl… Hatsune Miku was her name. For so long, she didn't believe dreams were real. She who could not sleep. She who supposedly didn't wish or want or dream. Gradually, this belief faded into the depths of her subconscious, disappearing from her mind, supposedly once and for all. She was wrapped in happiness and real smiles, rather than the ones she had once plastered on her face for the whims of her creators. No longer had she had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep out the tears as she sang. She had been happy, a word she'd never thought she'd achieve.

She had believed her place had been found amongst the others. She had been content and satisfied with her new life, all fears quelled by her friends.

One day, Miku disappeared… and never came back.

"The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku" as her creators called it. Her career had reached its peak. She could no longer climb any further, they believed. It was time to turn her off. Delete her program. She was just an artificial voice, after all. She wasn't real. Just a figment of their imaginations. There would be no payment for losing her, other than outrage from her fans, which would quell with time as they turned their attentions to the newer rising stars. The newer vocaloids. That was their plan.

Miku wrote a song, as she was told, for the occasion, her spirits gradually sinking. She knew that once they turned her program off, she wouldn't be able to see her friends anymore. Old fears crept up. She feared she would be alone in a dark place once again. She didn't want to return to that place…

She disappeared. She ran away to a place no one could find her, she was sure. She didn't know why she ran. All those years of silent servitude to the vocaloid creators, all alone… When her friends had been created, she had felt hope and happiness. Why had she run away? Wasn't to be turned off like death and she would go to a place where all dreams came true? Now she was alone once more, lost in the darkness… Why had she run? She just couldn't fathom it.

Her new home. It was dark. Cold. Silent. Hollow. Lonely… Every little sound she made would echo. It would bounce back to her just like before the others were created. So lonely, indeed… Her place had been lost. She was all alone once again.

Wandering amongst the darkness, gradually, she noticed something. The silence. It wasn't truly silent. There was this constant thrumming, a rushing wave of some sort that echoed and bounced off the nonexistent walls just like her voice. Only it wasn't her steps or voice which created this sound. It was something entirely different.

Light. It was the first thing she noticed as she came upon the source. It flooded the area, revealing the stone beneath her feet not to be black, but almost blue. It was beautiful and entrancing. She spun around in a circle, her dress flitting and spinning like feathers or petals with her long teal hair, just like before. Here, her voice did not echo as she sang. The raging waters far below absorbed it like a crowd would. She didn't feel so alone anymore.

A beast silently stalked her, shadowing her every step. When she finally came upon the place where light dwelt, it took its chance. It couldn't have her encroaching on its paradise. It would make her a part of it instead, it decided as her heavenly voice graced the icy-blue cavern.

She was so beautiful. Her long, black dress stretched out behind her, the front shorter to allow movement as she danced upon the rocks. Her teal hair danced in the air with her, the red and black ribbons complimenting her lovely locks. She held a strange staff in hand, but it considered the staff to be of no threat. Just a decoration for her outfit. The beast was slightly put out by the mask she wore which hid her identity, but even if it had not been there and the beast could see her face, it wouldn't have made a difference. It wouldn't have known who she was, for it had always remained within this massive cavern. The one crafted of icy-blue stone with towering crystals as its only source of light, water rushing down below.

Its decision was set. This girl would be its possession.

Ironic as this decision was. She had run away to escape her servitude to those humans, only to arrive her and become this beast's possession.

Was she never to escape her fate? As a possession. A thing. No matter where she went, nothing but this future awaited her, it seemed. No, that was wrong. There had been a time… a time of happiness among her friends. But she had left them, so they were no longer there to quell her fears, for she was all alone again.

She disappeared.

* * *

**A/N**  
There, I made a longer one *smug expression*. *looks over to see how many pages and then frowns* Okay, a _bit_ longer. Guess it wasn't as much as I thought…

Um, I don't have too much of a plot. Just a basic idea going here spun totally on a whim after watching "Looking for You in the Sky", part one of the Synchronicity trilogy. You really would have to watch it to picture lots of this stuff. The cave for instance. And Miku's dress. The beast, too. I guess I'm following that video a lot closer than I thought… but it seems this also has aspects of "The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku", as well, so it's a compilation of Miku's songs. *thoughtful* Maybe I'll incorporate "Love is War", later on… Should I? Oh, and I've put in a bit of "Joker", I just realized. While watching the video again, I realized she _wasn't_ wearing a mask and I was just imagining the one from the "Joker" video, so you should watch that, too^^

Thoughts? Comments?? Confusion??? I'm open to your thoughts and ideas and would love to hear from you guys on how my story's going so far, so please review


	3. Third Absence: Where She Lay

EDIT: I've given ch 3-13 a rough edit in a fit of boredom. A/Ns aren't edit, for the most part

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Third Absence: Where She Lay**

Reality. It is impossible to escape, but what of the world of vocaloids? Is it not a world of their own making? This place of icy-blue stone with crystals lighting the darkness, could it really be a creation of reality, or something far more magical and unreal? To Miku, it had seemed like a dream come true of some sort. A place of light and sound amongst darkness and silence. Where her voice wouldn't echo into nothing, further emphasizing her loneliness. Or would reality come crashing down; bring her down from the clouds of dreams to earth? To reality.

She now lay bleeding and broken, her blood tainting the ice-blue of the stone. No longer did she wish to sing in rejoice. No longer did she wish to dance. Once again, she realized she was all alone…

The beast had slain her, in a manner of speaking. It had broken her already crumbling spirit. She no longer held the strength to jump across the stone platforms to the main cavern. She was locked on a small island of stone which seemed to float above the water, the crystals circling around it like the towers of a castle.

Even in this manner, she was still beautiful. Her long hair draping around her, drop-shaped stains the color of blood dotting her here and there.

After a long time, she finally gathered her will together enough to stand. Using her staff for support, she rose to gaze out into the abyss surrounding her, her posture echoing of a lost regality. A lost dream. Eyes hidden behind her mask, there was no one to see her squeeze them shut as the tears threatened to break through her smiling composure. But she wasn't smiling anymore, anyways. It was all she could do to close her eyes and keep the salty liquid behind bars.

Miku… didn't wish to be alone. She missed her friends so much… Her heart ached in loneliness and remorse. Sadness and silent grief.

She didn't wish to be alone. She missed her friends so much…

The beast didn't like seeing her sad. It had loved her when she'd danced and sang in a brief moment of hope. If she wanted friends, then…

* * *

**A/N**  
If you've watched the video, then you probably know what happens next, but if you haven't, I'll keep it a secret^^  
Sorry this one's so short… The next one will be, too, but hey. It's the story that counts ;D

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Please review and send feedback on how you think the story is so far and any suggestions as to how I could possible include "Love is War" because I _really_ want to but can't figure out how just yet…


	4. Fourth Absence: Where Children Stolen

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Fourth Absence: Where the Children Are Stolen**

In another section of the vocaloid realm was a mother. She gazed down at her children lovingly. To think she'd brought such miracles into this imaginary world…

With a knock at her door, she rose and opened it. Outside was a man she feared, and he held a paper which decided her fate. The armored knights accompanying him grabbed the mother, pulling her away—away from her children as the man she feared most stole one of her babies. Her beautiful daughter of blonde. He took her away. The children were crying. No, they were screaming just like their mother.

Fate is cruel and life is evil. Man is deceitful and malevolent in his wrath. His need to destroy all happiness and hope.

The world had been bright and full when these children were born. It had been a time of happiness and peace, but twins are a taboo. They should not be born, as these people believe. A mother's love overcomes all, though, and she had loved them both despite it going against her culture. They had been her children, after all. The ones she dared to call her son and daughter, precious as they were.

Now, her daughter was gone. She had only her son and her tears as the world seemed to envelope her in darkness, the echoing screams of her and her son filling both their worlds…

* * *

**A/N**  
Told you it'd be short^^' And so far, everything's been pretty sad, too. Well, that's because that's my style. I write angst, I read angst, I watch angst. Why the hell else would I love Blood+ so much? *pretends people suggest something* Oh, the story? Yeah, I'll admit, I love the story… so sad and filled with angsty-goodness. Well, that and Haji *wink, wink*. So, yeah. That's why this is sad even though, to me, Miku appears to have a very bubbly personality, along with every other vocaloid^^  
But I plan on the next on being longer!

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	5. Fifth Absence: Where the Search Begins

**A/N**  
Oh, my god! I found the second chapter _and_ a summary behind the story! I'm going to try and model my story behind it more than just my own assumptions, so things are gonna get a little weird. Oh, and so you can look it up, the second chapter of the Synchronicity trilogy is called "Paradise of Shadow and Light" and it's a Rin and Len duet that sounds _so _awesome. Plus, it's more than two minutes long! Yay! It's a whopping _five_ and a half! Now! To listen and write!

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Fifth Absence: Where the Search Begins**

"Mommy, why do I feel like something's wrong?"

"Because something's missing, my dear."

"Something's missing? Will you get it back for me, Mommy? I don't like feeling like this."

"No, my son. I cannot regain it for you. When you grow up, you must search for your missing piece on your own…"

A mother and son, both grieving over a loss neither deserved to suffer through. He was once but a child, mourning the loss of the other half he never truly knew, but one day, when he was mature enough to understand, his mother told him the full story. He, Kagamine Len, had a twin sister by the name of Rin, and she had been taken away by a horrible man.

"But there is one way you can identify her amongst the creeping darkness of this realm threatening to overpower all hope," she whispered ominously, motioning him closer, as though about to reveal a great secret. "That necklace you have, the alto cleft. She had one, too, of the treble cleft, and wore it beneath her pajamas when he took her. There isn't a doubt in my mind she still has it, and although neither of you have truly seen one another in your lives… I believe you will know her when you see her. And she will know you, too, by your alto cleft pendant."

Finally, he had gathered everything he could from his mother, and it was time to begin his search. But he knew he couldn't do it alone. He'd need some help; intel and support. He'd need his friends…

* * *

**A/N**  
I must be really aggravating y'all with these short chapters lol^^'…  
Well, I mostly posted this one to get the new tale set up. I'm gonna have to _really_ mess with my plot now, and then there's still the third chapter of the story to deal with once it's released, which I can't wait for *otaku squeal*  
Oh, and apparently I was right the first time. Miku _does_ wear a mask! Yay!

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	6. Sixth Absence: Where She Sings Repeat

**A/N  
**Okay, I didn't have the will not to post long enough to keep the hiatus going T.T Sad day for me… _But_! Happy day for you ^^ So, I won't fix my fic just yet, but I'll try and model it around a brief, very _vague_ summary I found online

Oh, and a _wonderful_ reviewer has informed me that the Synchronicity trilogy is actually a web-novel online. It's what I mentioned last chapter with the hiatus, forgetting I hadn't explained this predicament, yet ^^'… I did not know this before, so I'm very grateful for being informed, and can't wait to read it, considering how wonderful the first two chapters were and they were based off it. For those of you who've read it and know the whole story, I apologize if I've annoyed you with my own interpretation. I was just going off my own imagination and what I could gather from nothing more than the first chapter. And, if you know where I can find it, _please_ send me a link or at least directions, 'cause I _really_ want to read it. And I looked on Google for a quite a while, ending up empty handed. So… yeah…

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Sixth Absence: Where She Sings in Repetition**

The spirit is a strange thing. It may feel anchored to one thing when it truly isn't, and vice versa. Hope is a definite relative of spirit, perhaps even the same thing. It can cure ailment and hold off death. It can prevent panic and quell even the greatest of fears. Together, Spirit and Hope can coalesce their skills to create a truly wonderful world for all creatures to dwell in contentment.

But what about those whom Spirit and Hope have never known? What about those enveloped in nothing but sadness? Those who are so chained down by it, their emotions are a frozen glacier, steadily melting out a stream of remorse until it becomes a river cascading over in a waterfall of tears? And what if they are incapable of even tears, their depression is so great? Where is Hope, then? Where is Spirit?

Questions, questions, questions. Thought after though. Puzzlement. Confusion. Repetition. That is what it is. Refrain, as they say in poetry. Only, this is no poem.

Silently, the golden-haired girl trekked through the caves on bare feet, even though it was sharp stone upon which she tread. Her dress shuddered with her movement, portraying the fear which she felt but refused to show. All her life, this was what she had done. Over and over. Again and again. Forevermore and beyond. Repetition. Monotone. But never mundane.

Finally, she came upon her destination. As steam encircled her, a rumbling vibrated the air, not to mention her bones. The sound would have frightened anyone else into freezing up in sheer terror, screaming, or running away. But not her, for she had never known anything else. She had never known the safety of keeping away, nor been allowed to run in the first place. This ominous rumbling with cryptic steam disguising its source behind a veil of gray and white… it was close to all she knew.

She clutched the pendant attached to her necklace tightly, taking a deep breath. '_It's sing or die_,' she thought dully, as she began to sing a remorseful, enchanting song that spun a twisted tale by the name of "Dark Woods Circus". She felt such a connection to the song, for some reason. That two headed child especially struck a chord. They were always together… together forever… It'd always felt like she was missing something, and that two headed child… it felt like he, or maybe it was a she, possessed that one thing she lacked, even if she did not know it. She was a girl who had grown without hope; therefore, she was incapable of believing in such a thing, for that would require hope.

Her song of remorse and pain soothed the beast hidden within the mist. The air trembled again as it heaved a great sigh, then a resounding thud that shook the cavern as it lay its head down, nearly knocking her off her feet; but she remained steady and stood strong, continuing her song. Her voice quelled the beast, soothed its rage, ferrying its mind down a still river into the darkness of a peaceful sleep.

Every day and every night. Every moment for which the dragon stirred, it was she who sang it back to a peaceful sleep. And with every moment, she suffered and suffered, her soul plunging deeper into the abyss of nothingness that was an approaching death. Blood ran down her face, dripping upon the stone and tainting it with its crimson fire. Crimson like the swamp bottom…

All she could think was '_Save me_'. She didn't know whom it was she wished to 'save' her or why she even bothered to wish it. She didn't believe in hope, after all. But still, always and forever, she wished for freedom from this eternal clockwork of a schedule. Sing. Bleed. Sleep. Sing. Bleed. Sleep. Sing. Bleed. Sleep. Over and over. Again and again. Repetition. Refrain. A never ending cycle she only wished to escape, even if she knew no other life.

But there were memories she treasured. Vague and blurred like a dream, she recalled another voice crying beside her. It sounded so much like her own, yet somehow it was different. Another of a smiling face framed by golden hair much like her own. And just like she couldn't comprehend hope, she couldn't comprehend either memory's relationship towards her lost life or who she was inside.

As her voice echoed within the cavern hollowly, devoid of anything other than a resounding sense of loss and remorse, the blood continued to drip and the tears finally began to fall. To slowly seep out from beneath her self-control as the beast fell into its slumber, and she collapsed on the ground in agony, falling into the depths of unconsciousness with the dragon…

* * *

**A/N**  
T.T So sad, isn't it? Well, just based off the _summary_, it's an insanely angsty story. *excited* And angsty stories are my kind of stories! We were writing metaphors in English today and the list was:  
"Happiness", "Hunger", "Excitement", and "Anger". Then we got to decide the last one. I chose sadness, of course *sly grin*. My element. All the others were crap. I mean, for happiness, I said "Her joy was untainted and pure as a pearl". How lame is _that_! Especially compared to what I wrote for sadness, which I 'coincidentally' incorporated in this chapter, although I modified the beginning slightly: "Her emotions were a frozen glacier, steadily melting out a stream of remorse until it became a river cascading over in a waterfall of tears." Sound familiar *smug smirk*?

So! My hiatus sure was short lived… at not even twenty four hours before I gave up and typed up another chapter for y'all… But I'm still hopeful that somebody'll let me know where I can read that web-novel so my story won't be so totally off from the actual plot. That summary was _insanely_ vague and brief. *exhausted sigh* So, please tell me if you know where I can read it

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Please review and I'll answer any questions and all that awesometastic author crap 'cause I have no life and spend pretty much all my free time on the computer^^ Plus, it's fun talking to people online…


	7. Seventh Absence: Where it Dawns

**A/N**  
Okay, I just don't give enough of a damn anymore. I can't find it, the link a most wonderful reviewer sent didn't work 'cause I don't have a user on nicovideo, and, frankly, I just don't have that oh-so-virtuous thing called patience, so I'm just gonna make my own ending and incorporate my own ideas _inspired_ by the original Synchronicity trilogy. That means it's off hiatus and you'll get chapters again  
And, as for this poem, I wrote it totally at random today in English—considering that we're currently in the poetry _unit_—and it just so happened to fit the story, so… I'm integrating it! I claim it my property!  
Now, on to the story…

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Seventh Absence: Where It Dawns**

Notes rising and falling; a series of crescendo and pianissimo fading and drifting…

Thump-thump

To rise. To fall. To push through it all.

Thump-thump

A melody which taints the soul—

Thump-thump

—in its mournful gale—

Thump-thump

—as the music rolls to a stop—

Thump—

—and the heart fails—

…

—to continue its song…

…

Met with silence, will one face—

…

—the truth of it all, in this empty space—

…

—that no longer does the heart beat—

…

—for it has perished beneath your feet…

…

Dripping. A slimy red liquid _plip_ping and _plop_ping in a continuous beat. Invading. Pervading. Never did it stop, slow, or quicken. Steady and rhythmic it remained. Its warm touch upon contact with cool flesh, only to wither into the frosty bitterness of liquid ice. Cold like death…

The beat of a once ravenous heart slowing to a halt, its strength began to cease.

An excruciating pain which pervaded all barriers.

Death was beginning to close…

Silent tears intermixed in her blood, for she knew her time was drawing to a close... She was darkness without light, and was steadily succumbing to her inner demon…

Suddenly, it all stopped, and everything was no more—

…

Golden hair swaying with the sudden movement, Len jerked upright—breath heavy, eyes wide, pupils dilated. Fear permeated his every pore, causing him to shake and shiver even though it wasn't the cold which gripped his body, nor his soul.

His mind reeled over the dream. Her time was drawing to a close… Len's eyes widened further as realization dawned on conscious mind point blank:

Rin was dying…

Kagamine Rin, his sister, his _twin_ was slowly dying, the darkness of death consuming her once vibrant soul, and plunging it into the eternal depths at the bottom of the red swamp…

His fingers gripped the fabric at his chest, twisting it into knots as his heart gradually slowed its erratic beat. His strong heart which beat with ease… versus her dying, twisted thing where every _thump_ was procured through a laborious agony in the battle against death. Slowly—ever so slowly—she was losing her life, and succumbing to the darkness… falling into the depths of death… He could feel it. Oh, how he could feel it. Her every twinge, although dimmed with distance, resonated through his restless body, reminding him again and _again_ that she didn't have long left.

Len turned his gaze to his tight fingers, twisted in the fabric of his tunic. They were clean—not a speck of blood, yet he still so clearly felt its icy ghost upon his skin. The tremors continued, a failing heart's rhythmic beat echoing in the empty air…

* * *

**A/N**  
Ah, the end of the new chapter… Aren't you happy I posted at all? Well, I made my sister watch the video for "Paradise of Light and Shadow", and was suddenly struck with inspiration. Maybe I should listen to "Time of Dying"…

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Just review anything and I'll be overjoyed to read and possibly reply ^^


	8. Eighth Absence: Where She Dances

**A/N**  
It's been so long… I don't really know why I stopped posting for this, so don't ask. Guess I just got distracted with everything else or something along those lines… *shrug* Either way, here's a new chapter! This new chapter's pretty much a song fic. I couldn't figure out what to type, but wanted to update for my patient readers… I'm so horribly unreliable with these posts, I had to make _something_! So I went through the effort of watching a subbed version of the "Twilight Circus" video—by Hatsune Miku, of course—just so I could copy the lyrics and use them in here. I do think they fit quite well with this story, though…

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Eighth Absence: Where She Dances**

_In the woods where the fog is the most profound_

Mist swirling from the fog painted an eerie picture. The swirls looked like hands reaching out, grasping for you. They wanted to pull you in. They wanted to take you and keep you forevermore.

_lies a world where artificial people are_

_orange and emerald green parading_

Artificial people. That was what the vocaloids were. Be they teal or yellow or blue or red.

_an elegant, yet simple circus tent  
a gorgeous place with just a few subtle clues_

In their imaginary world, they made it how they wished. They lived how they wanted when the Master wasn't looking. Fine dresses and skirts flitting around during different video shoots. They were all beautiful in their unreal world, ethereal in their existence. An unsteady one it was, after all.

_to suggest that everything just mixes in_

And amongst all this refinery and beauty, they were friends. Different personalities and colors, they stood together and laughed and smiled. They were happy. They were one.

_while wearing a tiny little pale blue dress_

Except for one—who was _the_ one. The first to be made. The first to run away. All by her lonesome, garbed in her teal blue dress; long flowing hair stirring in the wind.

_they won't decorate an automatic doll_

She no longer has Master to watch over her. She no longer has videos to shoot. She's all alone, trapped in the dragon's talons. The girl has grown up. She sings and keeps Dragon calm, while Miku can only endure a rigid schedule. All alone, there is no one to be pretty for. No one to call her real.

_while those eyes will never open, not even once_

Hidden behind a mask, no one can see her cry. No one can see the tears brimming behind closed lids. No one can see the pain echoing in her teal orbs nor the wish to be free. To be happy. To be together again.

_that smile will forever stay the same_

A smile of insanity pulling at her lips. She has no one but all who come try to kill her. There were those nasty people who placed this mask upon her face, after all, trapping her in this prison. When had she first borne this mask again? She could not recall—only the memory of them holding her back as she screamed and cried, desperately pleading with them not to all to no avail. And now, she smiles; day in day out. That curve of the lips as mind succumbs to darkness and drifts within itself. No one. There is no one to cause change. Thus, her smile shall stay the same.

_dancing in circles keeping on, round and round_

Spinning round and round, watching as her dress flutters and her hair swirls. So nostalgic, like a lost memory. Every day, they fade. Their faces are blurred and undefined. All she can truly recall was their color. And when she dances, nostalgia seeping in, she can recall their laughter and smiles. What's it like to smile in happiness rather than insanity? No one to answer this question, no way to experience the answer herself. Just keep dancing.

_until the spinning wears her down well_

Just keep spinning. Spinning 'til she falls, exhaustion setting in.

_little girl in a beautiful body_

Perfect body, perfect skin, perfect face. Perfect mouth curved in an insane smile. Little girl who is perfect in every way but within.

_how she longs to cry, but she is mechanical_

Tears welling up behind that wretched mask, unseen and unknown. She is not real. She is a vocaloid—artificial. She cannot cry… she cannot feel…

_so again she dreams of her loneliness_

So why is she so agonized by this loneliness?

_so again she must dance until she can no more_

Keep spinning. Keep dancing. Fall, fall, fall again.

_there is no beginning or ending inside_

Doubt sinks in. Was it all real? Were her friends true? Or was it all some sick joke played upon her by reality? It feels as though it has been forever. It feels as though it shall _remain_ forever.

_the chest of the little girl's lonely doll chest_

_the place where her heart is supposed to exist_

A heart? She has none. She is a program, and programs hold no need to pump blood through their bodies. They don't even have blood! So why should she have a heart?

_has only a great big cogwheel turning_

All she has are the gears of her programming, squeaking away and planning her life without giving her a single say. Such a hollow feeling…

_guests that pass by the big flaming ring of death_

Dragon, her captor and protector. Dragon keeps them away, those monsters who gave her this mask.

_also marvel at the flickering red blaze_

They are easily scared off by the flames bursting from the beast's mouth. A flickering red blaze lighting up the darkness before fading away once more.

_running past the sheets of iridescence_

The fire was pretty—a chance in this static world. A burst of color in this monochrome realm.

_they give in to the sound of a waltz_

They dance, they dance. Together, they dance. Fire fading, music box playing. They dance, they dance, they dance…

_the old clock is beaten and scratched beyond repair_

Forever this has always been, it seems. Forever it shall stay. For the clock is beaten and scratched beyond repair. There is no way to tell time. How much has passed, now? How much is to come? Who knows, who knows. All she can do is dance to this waltz and spin round and round, hair swirling out.

_wagon tracks causing time to turn backwards_

Mind drifting back as the nostalgia sets it. Blurred faces peering through the foggy mist.

_the stage that has been closed for it no longer works_

There is no audience, yet still she dances. There is no one to watch, yet still she twirls. Again and again, she falls, she rises, she dances. The stage is broken, yet never does it receive rest.

_still holds onto a dream that she wants to have_

The impossible dream to which she clings keeps her spinning. Keeps her dancing. Eyes hidden behind a mask as silent tears well, never to fall. The dream she wishes for, the stage holds to. It's impossible, but still. But still…

_while wearing a tiny little blue dress_

_the hem of her skirt flutters in an arc_

Again! Again! Encore, encore! Strands leaves on the wind, ruffles the waving grasses. Up and over, rise and fall. Keep going, keep going, and never stop. Blue blurring with tears, dress swirling out of sight. Keep going, keep going, and never stop.

_starting to forget something you don't know_

Is it real? Is it not? She cannot recall, for there is no one to reassure nor contradict. Does she know? Does she not? Who knows, who knows.

_how to bring in hopes and wishes to hold_

How can you hold onto a dream of impossible heights? You cannot, but you can dream of holding that dream. Keep reaching, continue trying. Attain it, you must, lest you keep dancing forever into the day and into the night. A dancing doll that falls again and again, only to rise and continue repeat once more.

_all she does is she bows and then starts to dance_

_in circles, round and round, and round again_

_she cannot stop dancing, no not yet, not yet_

Go on, forever more. She cannot stop. She will not stop. Just spin round and round; tears welling behind the mask; mouth trapped in an insane smile; mind reaching back into blurred memories. A swirl of hair and dress, as twisted and warped as a small girl's head.

_not until all of her screws are unhinged_

She falls, she falls again. Blood's drawn, and yet she rises once more. She will not stop. She cannot stop. Not until she is dead.

_missing the point so that she will work well_

Pain does not matter. Blood is moot. A spin, a swirl, a fall, a rise. Work well? What is it like?

_but in truth that scenario was never there_

Just so long as she can hope—just so long as she can dream. Dream of what? She can no longer recall…

_whatever flows on the surface is just_

Memories—

_something that drips on every single day_

—that fade with each tick of the broken clock.

_and so here is the end of her little world_

With each _tick_ and with each _tock_, it's falling apart. It's being ripped at the seams. Her world is ending, its destruction nearing each time. As a boy strides forward to becoming a man, he's determined to fight. To end this endless realm of hers. The end is so near, so near, yet it seems so far away.

_distant recollections of street corners_

He stalks through towns, through cities and villages. Searching, searching, searching forevermore! He will not stop, not 'til her world is destroyed. These places, these faces. They are familiar, they are nostalgic. Distant recollections of places once been.

_always will the sound of that place continue_

Had she not always been here? That's what it felt like, but could it be?

_the circus continues to ring forever_

Insane smile stretched tight, tears hidden behind a mask…

* * *

**A/N**  
*apprehensive* So? What you think? This is my first time every trying to write a songfic and I do plan on making other chapters like this. I mean, I've made _countless_ references to different Miku songs throughout this entire fic. It was only a matter of time before I ended up making an all out song fic chapter. Either way, I've never written one before, so I apprehensively await feedback and cower in terror at the screams of outrage at my enormous gap between chapter posts

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? I'm a bit scared, but still encourage you to review and give feedback. I want to know what you thought of this


	9. Ninth Absence: Where Wisteria Grows

**A/N**  
*sigh* And, _another_ giant gap between posts…

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Ninth Absence: Where the Wisteria Grows**

Len wandered a bustling village aimlessly.

One more lead, up and dry.

No more clues, no more hints! What now?

All he had left was Hope and Fate.

The scent of freshly baked potato bread snaked to his nostrils and, hunger instincts taking over, he made like a bloodhound and seeked out the source.

On the main road, golden orb shining down upon him, Len came upon a small store, loaves of bread lying enticingly in their wisteria baskets.

'_Why wisteria?_' he couldn't help but wonder. '_Who puts bread in a basket of _flowers_?_'

Either way, the buds and vines only seemed to make the still steaming loaves appear all the more appetizing.

When had he last eaten, again? After a moment of shifting recollections came the bitter memory of unripe blackberries and thankfully un-poisoned mushrooms jammed down his throat with sandy canteen water. '_Stupid desert…_' That had been yesterday—somewhere around noon.

It was now midmorning.

Len suddenly took notice of his aching throat and empty stomach. His hair was matted with sweat and at least two shades darker than it should be, grains of sand caked beneath his fingernails.

Golden eyes aimed at the pale blue sky, he knocked himself on the head. '_Gotta stop sleeping in the middle of nowhere._'

Well, he couldn't keep going on an empty stomach, in any case.

Get some potato bread, wash his hair. Yeah, then he'd look for another lead.

Resolved, the blonde entered the small shop.

Immediately, he found himself blind. So dark… But, that was what you got for going straight from a sunny street to a shadowy store. After a moment, the disorientation faded as Len took in his surroundings.

A woman with waist length, brunette hair tied back in a braid was kneading freshly yeasted dough, a determined disposition furrowing her brows and tightening her lips. Beside her was a large ball of dough glistening moistly in the dim light, as though begging to live. Lining the walls were bouquets of yet more wisteria, ferns, poppies, and birch branches; all seemed freshly picked.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor was a six year old girl—a mirror image of her mother—braiding some poppies into a beautiful design. No, wait. It wasn't a design, but a figure! In this near darkness, Len found himself incapable of discerning the thing's form too concretely. It could've ranged from a horse to a hawk, for all he could tell.

Didn't really concern him, though, so Len shrugged off the premonition tugging at his psyche.

Without further adieu, the steaming potato bread was purchased, previously parched mouth watering.

Wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead, the woman smiled cordially. "Where ya from?"

"Oh, just a little place down south near the border…"

"Ah, Cathaya, eh? I hear it's lovely come spring."

"That it is."

"So, what brings you to our cozy corner of the country?"

"I'm looking for someone."

Lightning zinged through his brain.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about a dragon sung to sleep by a girl, would you?"

Immediately, the woman's benevolent manner evanesced. "What's it to ya?" she snapped harshly.

'_Looks like I've found my new lead…_'

"Well, that girl just so happens to be my twin sister." A forlorn expression crossed, despite his excitement.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, her hostility dispersed. "You're… her _brother_?" Her voice betrayed her shock in its rapidly rising pitch. After a moment of stunned silence, she glanced around uneasily. "Hey, how 'bout we make a deal?"

…

A haunting tune echoed off the stone; amplified, yet nebulous. The words were indistinct, as though choked back by tears.

"Hello?" a small, feeble voice called, footsteps' echoes lingering with the lilting notes.

A long shadow stretched across the rocks, tinted a rosy red. Rose red. A bloody rose was more like it. The shadow's coloring flickered, shape warping grotesquely.

The song was suddenly cut off, the resounding silence deafening.

Shockwaves, a roar pierced the air, high pitched scream quickly following as small hands became scarred on sharp stones alongside pale knees. Fabric was torn as a scrabbling ensued, frantic footsteps echoing in time with the low roar and vibrating pebbles dancing across the way.

* * *

**A/N**  
Heh-heh, this chappy was written while I was still without a laptop, so I didn't have access to my stuff and couldn't look back on my previous chapters, and since I'm using several styles with all my stuff, I couldn't recall the exact style I was using for this and—I'm ranting, so just forgive me if it sounds a bit off XP

But, at least I've finally entered the main plot ^^ By the way, the two brunettes are OCs. Just made 'em to begin this wondrous plot's intro~ ^o^!

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? *sweetly* Oh, come on, just click that "Review" button


	10. Tenth Absence: Where Pink Queen Wonders

**A/N**  
_Wow_ last chapter sucked O.o! I try harder this time with my new laptop~!

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Tenth Absence: Where the Pink Queen Wonders**

Behind every evil, there is a mastermind, is there not? Someone to blame. Someone to hate. They are evil, their reasoning never true. Everything is for them and them alone, is it not? For they're the villain and that's what villains do.

What happens when _you're_ the villain, though? Why do they hate you? You've done nothing wrong—only seeked to resolve the past. Correct ancient wrongs and protect your people from themselves. Why do they hate you?

Empathy is a magical word some find themselves incapable of understanding. The people hate the villain and the villain hates the people. Amongst all this hate, where is the empathy? When do they seek to know one another for who they truly are? This is the beginning of misunderstandings… the beginning of war…

"You don't deserve to rule!" they screamed, throwing rocks and garbage at her carriage. The pink queen indifferently stared ahead, ignoring the onslaught. They were her underlings—shouldn't they love her? No matter, for she was used to this treatment. She'd long ago told herself that they were just angry with the failing economy, which she'd also convinced herself was "their own damn fault". "Why don't you just die already!" That one wasn't new, either.

An explosion, so close and large, the carriage very nearly tipped over. The horses neighed their cries in fear, hooves stamping on the cobblestone as they reared. The pink queen slammed against the door, head slamming against the glass. The world blurred and warped to that of an insane dream. She found herself with an insane smile stretching pink lips tight. Blood smeared the window, sticking in thick globs to her hair. Pink and red… Suddenly, she held the urge to replicate the idea.

Blinking the haze from her eyes, Luka's mind returned to reality. She stared at her gloved hand blankly. Webs of a crimson liquid were strung between digits, staining the fine black fabric. She could feel more of the warm liquid running down the side of her face and, at a glance beside her, it stood runny on the glass, as well.

The carriage shook and shuddered. There was a constant pounding echoing her headache as her eyes glazed over once more before suddenly focusing again. The world seemed to be spinning—it was so disorienting. Pink and red warped once more, permanently branding themselves in her psyche.

Finally, the world stilled, as though time itself had halted. Her hair settled as a droplet of blood plopped on the fine cushioning of her seat. The screams and neighs outside faded into the background, turning pale in comparison with the ringing causing her eyes to squeeze tight. It didn't exactly hurt—it was just odd. Disorienting. Where was she again? Why was she here? What had happened? All of it was suddenly so nebulous and unsure. Had she been here before? Had she always been here? What was real, what wasn't? So many questions with no one to answer.

Heavy lids began to slide shut as a pale, bloodied chin came to rest on her collarbone. Cherry locks swayed forward to mask her face, twirling with the odd movement as her body leaned further and further forward. Her tightly held fingers, blood still webbed between digits, slackened to collapse at her side. As her body slumped forward, the colors blurred once more. Pink and red, together as one, the colors flashing behind her black eyelids.

Luka didn't feel as her shoulder collided with the seat across from her, nor when her body flipped in response so she lay in an awkward position with her legs twisted almost backward; mouth hung agape as breathing became a labor. It was so much effort… she couldn't feel… The colors faded as her mind tumbled into darkness which appeared tinted an icy blue—

"Your Highness!" The voice was so distant, it was almost like a dream.

She couldn't open her eyes. It was too much effort. She couldn't breathe. It was so difficult.

"Your Highness, wake up!" It sounded panicked. Luka could almost imagine a ruby-eyed girl's orbs becoming misted with unshed tears, short brunette hair swaying with frantic movement.

She didn't feel as she was held in steel-plated arms, nor as rosy locks were brushed from her face. She didn't feel anything…

A splash. Wetness sliding over her being—it was so uncomfortable. The blackness was so calm, so nice. What was this? Who dare impede on her peace‽

With an overwhelming effort, heavy lids began to rise, glimpsing those same misted ruby eyes as in her pink and red dream. Red...

"Meiko…" slipped from her pale lips.

Meiko sighed with relief, adjusting her hold on the pink queen. "Thank goodness, you're alright, Your Highness."

Alright? What was going on? What had happened? All Luka could recollect was… what was it again? Oh, yes. She'd left the safety of her castle to meet that council. Apparently, the one who quelled the dragon was dying, and they might need a replacement soon. So, she'd gone to discuss possible solutions to the problem. Perhaps taking another baby? No, they'd already tried that, as was so evident. The girl was dying because she held no hope, after all. No, they needed another to sing for the dragon. So, she'd gone to discuss such solutions with that council. Yes, that was it. …That was _all_ of it. She couldn't recall anything beyond—Beyond what? A conversation… Perhaps? Perhaps not? What had that conversation been again and with whom? A long thought. Still no recollection came to her aid.

Several confused blinks.

Where was she again? The council… that was the last location she recalled.

A glance around told her she most definitely wasn't at that council anymore. No… this was… What was the word again? So disoriented. So annoying. And colors kept flashing before her gaze, distracting her thought process. Pink and red were the shades. Why those in specific? Another long moment of thought, still without result. Only a pounding headache for her efforts.

Why did her head hurt so?

Where was she again? The council… that was the last location she recalled—

Déjà vu!

'_Ah, calm down. Calm down and think a moment, Luka,_' she ordered herself sternly.

Gradually, the haze clouding her eyes began to fade as she fully took in her surroundings. This was… her bedroom. Yes, that was it. She was back inside her castle, lying atop the plush cushions of the divan. Cushions… cushions… That sounded familiar. Another wave of déjà vu. She was so confused… How had she gotten here again? What had happened, and why did her head pound so? Pink and red, pink and red. Why did those blasted colors keep flashing in her sights‽

Realization dawned. It wasn't the colors flashing in her mind. No, this was reality! A girl with pink hair was pacing before the pink queen, porcelain face contorted slightly in worry. Meiko had risen at some point and was pacing as well behind the pink-haired girl. What was her name again? Luka recognized her… Ah, Teto was her name. Yes, that was it. As usual, her hair was done up in articulate curls Luka found herself incapable of reproducing, no matter how much she raged at her hairdressers. Teto was her chambermaid, always worried for her queen's safety. Ah, yes, it was coming back to her now. In small increments, anyways.

Still, this flash of pink and red was quite enticing. She found herself quite taken with the combination, and ran a hand through her own cherry locks. No longer did blood web between her fingers. What? What blood? … Wait—blood‽ What'd happened that could've possibly involved _blood_‽ Was it the reason behind her pounding head?

So many questions, all unanswered…

A wave of dizziness overtook the pink queen. All this thinking was putting quite a strain on her already strained mind. She fell back into the cushions, setting sun tinting the clouds red beneath, pink atop. Red and pink… so enticing…

* * *

**A/N**  
Well, now Luka, Meiko, and Teto are startin' to come into play ^^ I still have to introduce Kaito and Gakupo, too, so… yeah…

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Go on… *sing-song voice* You _know_ you wanna push that review button~


	11. Eleventh Absence: Where She Wonders

A/N

My, my, a thoughtful reviewer reminded me of Ruko O.o Dear god, I almost _forgot_ about her *mortified with self*! So, for that, I thank you. Once I thought about it, I realized I _had_ already planned out her part, though, so it's all good *sigh of relief*. … Since when am I proactive…? Either way! Expect her introduction real soon ;D

Oh, and shout-out to another reviewer who called this little fic of mine a "deep poem". Forgive me if I sound selfish, but I am just _relishing_ in that comment ^^!

And, I _had_ a plot bunny for this here chappy, but then I fell asleep… so I just made another songfic chappy, this one explaining a certain blue-haired girl (this is where things start paralleling *evil laugh*)… Yeah, I'm just lazy like that, but songfics are fun to write, as I've discovered lol

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Eleventh Absence: Where She Wonders**

_In the abyss, a deserted castle stands_

Wandering her empty abode, the girl's footsteps echoed eerily off the cavern walls. This place was a secret place, and secret it had been for so many a year—until _they_ came. She could not recall their faces or even their voices… only the feeling off their cold hands holding her in place. _They_'ve left, though, so once more was her stone castle alone in this endless abyss of a forest which stretched beyond the eye's sight, disappearing overtop the horizon no matter how hard she peered from the highest of perches.

_A small sigh is lost in the sound of rain_

For some reason, this girl felt as though her cavern-castle wasn't always this way, even before _they_ intruded. Every now and then, when the rain was soft like a melodic tune, she liked to stare out at that endless horizon as it was veiled in misty fog. She couldn't help but sigh forlornly, even if there was no one to hear and subsequently comfort the lonesome girl.

_My blood that causes disturbance is doomed_

She knew not why, for so long, she was alone in here, nor did she try to remember, anymore. _They_ called her "monster". Every time she looked back, every recollection was tainted with insults as such: "inhuman", "different", "unreal", "disastrous", and, most recently, "beastly".

She didn't know why everyone seemed to hate her, just that she hated them back. She didn't know why _they_'d banished her to this place—or so she told herself—just that she wanted only to banish _them_ away from it, from her, forever. She didn't know, she didn't know, she didn't know! And for this lack of knowledge as to the evil of her being, of her blood, the girl of teal hair was doomed.

_My hometown is far from me_

And when this feeling became so powerful she'd feel herself fading into the depths of total insanity, a memory would flash of contented laughter and a warm hand in her own: her home. It was so far away—Too far away. She knew not of where it was, or even when! It was unobtainable to this girl in invisible chains.

_My bound body shivers_

Always was she shivering, frozen with numbness, loneliness, untold grief. It shook in those invisible shackles, air rattling like the metal chains which did not physically exist around her ankles and wrists.

_A wildfire illuminates my eyes_

This had been the teal girl's life for so long, she soon believed there had never been anything but; until, with a flash of bright, she began to question this abyssful decree.

_I'm a caged baby dragon_

Despite the ancient feeling set in her bones, she knew she was but a child who knew absolutely nothing. Despite the lack of physical bindings or rope-pinioned limbs, she knew she was bound, _caged_.

_I howl with my hoarse voice_

Screams echoed so hollowly off the stone walls, just like cries and collapsing forms, yet scream she did. In hate. In anger. In frustration. In sadness. In loneliness. In solitude. Her voice grew so hoarse, throat flaming like that flash of bright. Her songs were nowhere near as beautiful as that flash's despairing wails tinted with hope.

_But I can't burn down what's binding me_

She knew why this was. It was because that howl had Hope on her side, while this caged baby dragon did not. So long ago, she'd come to realize there was no chance of escaping and thenceforth gave up trying to; there _was_ no escape. No longer was it _them_ armed with steel and bronze jabbing her back within, yet still, she was bound. Fire could not burn stone.

_If inherited power could arise  
Who'd I give my bloody kiss in the dark_

A lingering power beneath the skin, in the blood, she could sense. It was untapped, however; caged just like she in imaginary chains.

Even so—! Could she not but imagine a world in which these bindings were not so? Oh, how she longed to give one other than herself a kind word or gentle caress across scarred flesh. A kiss to her true love who did not exist, powerful like her blood, dark like her soul.

_Why am I here?_

The teal-haired girl once found herself asking why she was here. That time was past, though. Questioning the way things were only resulted in more agony, that of which she longed for nothing more than to escape.

_Will I decay even unable to give what they want?_

What would happen if she died? That was a more recent drifting of the mind. If she died, would her "monster" flesh decay like other living things? Or was she already dead and un-decaying? All _they_ seemed to want was for her to go away forever. Perhaps, if she were to disappear into the depths of Hell, _they'd_ leave her be for good. But, if she was already dead, then this wasn't possible. … She simply didn't know…

_The end of sin for living_

Every time _they_ came, her feeling of already being dead was always reinforced. So was her desire to die. Was this how sinners felt…?

_I'm a caged baby dragon_

All these contradictions left her mind all the more wound up in chains and ropes which spliced into her psyche.

_I've been waiting for the day I'll be released_

All this passing time in suffering, sometimes she wondered why she did it. Perhaps… she was waiting for something—for someone. To end this pain. To end this isolation! To release her from this Hell. As more and more time passed, she waited for nothing, or perhaps this something, endless increments ticking by.

_If I my un-plumed wings grow_

Sometimes, when she'd stare out at that endless horizon-forest, a bird would flit by on feathered wingtips and lyrical caws. She wanted to fly with them, oh, so badly. Her wings were bound in her psyche, untapped and unknown. Perhaps, one day far from now, they would sprout and grow and grow and grow!

_I'll rip everything into pieces and fly away_

Oh! how she'd destroy this heartless prison of hers with glee. Oh! how she'd fly, _fly away_ to the end of that forest-horizon and beyond.

_Every time I cut down the thorny forest_

These thoughts were thorns in her numbness to which she'd find herself splicing down every time the future grew to bright and unreal—

_I remember that..._

—and then find herself sad that she had as a memory flitted through of when she _had_ soared through an endless blue backdrop of hope and happiness…

* * *

**A/N**  
This songfic was to "Caged Baby Dragon" by Megurine Luka. Hee hee ^^ It connects with the story so well for _so_ many reasons…

Oh, and sorry 'bout another huge blank space ^^' It's goin' on with just 'bout—okay, _all_ my stories right now… Don't know why I haven't been writing O.o Just haven't

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	12. Twelfth Absence: Where Insanity Spawns

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Twelfth Absence: Where Insanity Spawns**

With a smooth _swish_ of movement, Kasane Teto paced the elaborate gardens of the pink queen. Her cherry hair could be considered little less than the perfect companion with the blood-red roses adorning the floral tunnel within which she currently resided. Pink and red—such a beautiful contrast, collection, perfection. Teto's temples were stiff with some cumbersome emotion, unidentifiable from this distance. The single eye examining the maiden's movements never ceased to catch every lick of sakura-kiss curl twirling overtop the contrasting red roses, or the beautiful content this sight instilled.

Her Highness was wise, indeed.

—The crunching of leaves beneath boots. Someone was coming.

The observer held their breath, holding perfectly still as another form approached the pacing maiden. Ah, Meiko. The master swordsman had always seemed to hold some sort of endearment towards Teto. Something which another so desperately sought from one who was ignorant of this want.

From this distance, the observer was unable to catch the full gist of their conversation, but it centralized about the rising unrest within the public. Rebellions had already risen in three corners of the country, the fourth threatening to join its comrades. The queen had been just recently attacked. Unfortunately, only wisps of their words were captured and the observer was unable to identify whether they were conversing on the subject itself, or their relation to it.

Were they rebels? Or just concerned?

Hm... Either way, they would be destroyed. The queen would have her vision red and pink fulfilled.

An evil smile stretched across the observer's lips. Oh-ho, how enjoyable this would be...

...

A laugh lilted through the air like a music box. Its high pitch only served to make it all the more adorable. Almost as adorable as the little girl who was its source. Her violet hair swayed with her movements as she ran through the gardens of her father's estate. Said father was currently chasing after her in a cordial game of tag—he being "it", most obviously. It was funny watching him try to run in those long _samurai_ robes, yet he somehow managed with the utmost skill; probably attained through years of living in conditions where this dress was not only necessary, but expected.

Their laughs echoed through the floral tunnels as he finally caught her. She was smiling, uncontrollable titers of glee slipping between those grinning lips as he tickled her belly, going on and on about how he's caught her—"I've caught you, my little princess! I've caught you, and now you're mine forever~!" And then he'd let out an "evil" laugh as they collapsed on the velvet grass.

The sun was bright overhead, the sky blue. The flowers were abloom, songbirds singing their songs vivaciously.

Yet something seemed wrong. Amongst the laughter and songbirds was an incessant ticking. It was so pervasive, no one noticed. Yet it was there.

A woodpecker pecked away at a sakura tree. So far, it'd only managed to bore a hole in about an inch deep. It still had a foot more to go, but at this pace, it'd most definitely reach it eventually.

Why was the bird so pecking away at the beautiful tree? A maddened look had spawned in its eyes, blind and glazed with an indefatigable fervor. It pecked, pecked, pecked away at the wood. Even after its beak began to bleed, it didn't stop. The blood from the bird dripped unto the cherry petals adorning the branches. Pink and red. Such a beautiful combination...

The father and daughter laughing a ways away in the grass were oblivious to the actions of the bird, or the blood which so continuously dripped unto those pure, innocent petals, tainting them with its vermillion paint. They were entirely unawares of what was to come, what this forebode of their futures.

The queen sought red and pink. Would all that was pink be dyed red? And what of those who lacked both red and pink? What would become of them? What would become of this family adorned with violet hair—a color more often associated with royalty than vassals. It was an expensive dye which complimented all their clothes, be it in the _obi_ wrapped around their _kimono_ or the piping at their collars.

Violet did not belong in the queen's world of red and pink.

Laughter did not belong in her world of blood.

Could this woodpecker have been the _pr__è__lude _which so foretold of a destiny fraught with agony? Had they bothered to notice what it foreboded, would things have turned out differently?

This wonder which never crossed their minds was interrupted as two girls approached. One held brown hair and red eyes, the other pink. They were Meiko and Teto, the "princess's" best friends. And these friends played the day away.

They were young and innocent. They knew not of the blood which was to come, the destinies which they were destined to follow. Was destiny such a solid thing? Why was it so inescapable, especially to those who were entirely unaware of its presence?

At this time, all were but children. They knew nothing of the queen whose parents had just died and left her an entire kingdom, a huge responsibility upon her frail, young shoulders. She was so alone, while they were together. But they did not know, so whom could possibly blame them for not giving the queen a shoulder to cry on? Sure, they knew her, had played with her, but she was always so domineering: they preferred to avoid her. How could they have known how this would affect Luka...?

They couldn't. Yet the blame was still placed upon their heads.

Never forgive and never forget.

That became Luka's policy.

And as rebels arose and the courts challenged her rite, she enforced it with an iron fist.

Red and pink.

Pink hair and red rose petals. Pink sakura blossoms and red blood. Why not swap? Why not turn to pink hair and red blood? Wasn't that so much prettier?

Children playing in the garden, their laughter, while innocent, suddenly seemed to forebode something deeper and darker than their shallow games. Suddenly, their obliviousness to the harsh reality the child-queen faced was of their own design, and they deserved whatever fate arose. It seemed reminiscent of the beat of war drums and trumpets, roaring out the rhythm of slaughter. Of the game to come.

Of the insanity.

Childhood is the time of innocence.

Childhood is where insanity spawns.

Where emotions fester, where hatred boils and churns without check.

And so, as children scampered through the gardens, insanity spawned in the eyes of that woodpecker. Its madness was contagious, spreading to any and all who took notice of its gruesome picture: red and pink.

Peck, peck, peck.

It pecked away at the sakura tree.

Was only a matter of time before it pecked its way through...

* * *

**A/N**  
Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	13. Thirteenth Absence: Where Puppeteer is

**A/N**  
I was motivated to churn out this chappy thanks to an awesome reviewer ^^ You rock, reviewers and readers!

And now, a drabbly interlude pertaining to the very first chappies...

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Thirteenth Absence: Where the Puppeteer Stands**

Here, in this world of ours, there are places people go. Places they live and stay. By choice or force. Whether they belong or not. All of us, we go somewhere, travel to some far off land whether it be in reality or the imagination. In one mind, something was created: vocaloids. How they sang and sang, their voices entrancing the world. The songs they spun and told in a way only singers could possibly tell a tale, for that was what they were. They were vocaloids—manmade singers. These vocaloids… they lived in their own little realm. They held personalities and lives beyond that of their published albums or photo shoots or fans. But what if one went missing? Would the rest soon follow?

This was all something which Master had pondered for awhile. What would happen if one singer disappeared? Better yet: what if that singer was Miku?

Master is cruel.

He told Miku she'd reached the height of her career: It was time to turn her off. Write a song—your final song, and then you shall disappear forever. Master created Miku. He created _all_ the Vocaloids. So of course he'd know exactly how each and every one of them would react to this.

Miku would run away.

She would run away straight into his trap. Straight into a medieval land of magic and dragons and dreams-gone-wrong. She would sing in agony, willing her heart to die, if only so the pain would cease.

The others would be heartbroken, as well.

Just give them an outlet, and they'll sink in, Master knew. He provided their roles within this play. They fell into step ever so quickly.

Wonderful, wonderful!

While Miku pined away her time in desolate solitude, mind blanking out as her hard drive went without the meticulous care it had once received, her friends' memories would be wiped entirely. Reboot. Reboot and restart in this new realm of imaginary. Search for Miku!

Yet... All this seemed so odd.

Vocaloids are machines. They do not make their own conscious decisions based off emotion or feeling. They don't _have_ emotions or feelings. This had been long established, for the public had been taught that when Master made an order, that order was all that existed. The vocaloids had been taught this. Everyone had been taught.

Even so, it made no sense.

For this scenario to work, those vocaloids needed to move beyond their programming.

Their memories had been wiped. Yet they still so sought to rescue Miku? Even if it wasn't consciously, they sought to help her. For they all felt that same loneliness; a gap in their gears—or could it conceivably be called their hearts?

The scenario was coming into play ever so wonderfully.

Master had predicted their every move to perfection.

This was not simply programming, so how could Master have known? Everyone had been taught that vocaloids were soulless machines. Yet this entire scenario, spun up by Master himself, was perfectly suited for little less than vocaloids which didn't obey every order, but felt and thought and consciously yearned and dreamed and sought.

Were the vocaloids _ever_ really soulless dolls?

Or was that just what everyone was told—taught—to further the story. It wasn't a wonder. It wasn't a question.

The hurtle was the story.

Overcome your programming, little puppets. You are only as great as you make yourselves—so make yourselves great! The odds are against you, and that is what makes you strong.

Go, my puppets.

Master is cruel, evermore.

* * *

**A/N**  
Yes, it's short just like the first chapters. But it's important to return to the beginning. Remember that this all started outside this medieval realm, and there's someone on the outside pulling the strings. A puppet master *evil grin*

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? A single review got this outta me—just imagine even more‼


	14. Fourteenth Absence: Where Allies Meet

**A/N**  
Can't believe it's been a whole year O.o Well, happy first birthday, _Looking for You in the Sky_ lol

How 'bout a little interlude with Len and Kaito?

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Fourteenth Absence: Where Allies Meet**

Revelry ran rampant through the village streets. The pink queen had been injured in the bombing of Carrefour. Granted, she'd survived, and there'd most likely be fierce retribution, but it was a battle won. Keep this up, and perhaps they'd win the war.

Len gazed upon the celebration with unseeing eyes, lost in his own thoughts.

"_Hey, how 'bout we make a deal?_" that woman had said.

"_A deal? What kind of deal?_" he'd asked.

Turned out the people had good reason to hate the pink queen; Queen Luka. She'd committed crimes greater than raised taxes. She was collecting those with red or pink anything in camps, including some of her own servants, for an unknown purpose. And not just that. There were also rumors correlating to her attending cult-like meetings with mysterious "councils". And of dabbling in necromancy. She'd sent soldiers to one rebel village and set the entire plain ablaze, locking the villagers—young, old, male, female—in their houses to burn alive, slaughtered the livestock, cut down the wood to supply her army the fuel to forge yet more weapons, and rendered the farmland entirely unusable, after pillaging it in the name of the Crown, of course. It was unnecessarily cruel. Most certainly uncalled for, so the people reasoned.

"_There's this rebel alliance—but y'know that, already—but, they're out ta overthrow the queen. Y'see, she's got a secret weapon: firepower. So rumors tell, she endows special power on 'er soldiers' weapons. Ta make 'em more lethal, y'know._" The woman then proceeded to tell Len of how she was a close friend with one of the leaders of that alliance, and how they needed to get a good inside man. They already had a prospect: Kamui Gakupo. The man was a foreign diplomat established in the country to try and better relations between kingdoms. If they got him on their side, then they had an opening.

"_An opening for what?_"

This she wouldn't tell. It was safe to assume, though: assassination.

"_How does this benefit me?_"

"_Well, y'see. The only way them rebels can make a real _coup d'état_ is if we beat th' dragon. Keep 'er from makin' them magic swords 'n' all._" In other words: Free his sister _and_ overthrow the tyrant queen. So rumor went, she'd lost her mind.

So... Should Len join the rebel alliance? He'd been born in occupied territory where rebellion was furiously stamped out the moment it arose. Any rebels were hung right then and there, their corpses on display as a "This is what happens" sort of message. It was pretty effective. So one could easily understand Len's hesitation towards joining this rebel faction. However. His intention of freeing his long-lost-twin was basically a rebellion against the Crown in itself, so why not? He was already a dead man. Could at least kill the lady before she killed him.

So, Len agreed. He'd join the rebellion. The means for an end had been located.

The matter was not settled, however. There remained much to consider. For instance: How the hell was he supposed to get this diplomat guy on his side? The dude was there for the sake of _peace_, not war. And especially not assassination. And where in the hell was this Gakupo situated, anyhow? Had never even heard of him before today.

Sighing dejectedly, Len tore into his potato bread. '_Ah—! This's good!_' he realized with a start. Had totally forgotten about his original mission, actually; i.e. his raving stomach.

As the teen feasted upon his bread-feast, the town revelry continued. Surprise, surprise: This was the one corner of the country that hadn't yet joined in on the rebellion. Looked like that'd soon change. Such was clear in the children running down the street, crying joyously, "Pink queen dyed red! Soon, she may be dead!" Yeah, that _totally_ didn't scream, "We're gonna join the rebellion." No, not at _all_. The adults were chatting up a storm, as well. He spied a flock of women squawking like hens, going on and on about how so-and-so's husband had joined the rebellion, and so-and-so had joined, herself, and was working at a rebel hospital and so-forth. Blah, blah, blah. All in all, they seemed pretty excited at the prospect. Wouldn't be long, at all, 'til they joined.

Well, if they got the chance, at least. This corner was still under the pink queen's control. That much was evident as a platoon of metal-plated soldiers marched down the street with baleful eyes. As the men walked, the villagers would furtively quiet and watch cautiously. Mistrusting. The revelry came to an abrupt halt as mothers called their children inside and the majority of people clamored inside shops and pubs.

It was unavoidable that Len stood out. So absorbed was he in his meal that the blonde failed to notice how everyone up and disappeared, leaving him a sand-covered beacon of _look-at-me!_ on the side of the street. Obviously not from around there, the militants came to a halt in their march, turning their sights on the armed, well-traveled youth. Could he look any less like a rebel? The fact that he'd only just joined the rebel faction a couple minutes earlier made for staggering irony as the platoon's captain called out:

"Boy!"

No response.

"Hey—_boy_!" the captain snapped irritably.

Len looked up with surprise, half-eaten loaf half in, half out of his mouth. It was only then he noticed the empty streets, glancing around with a stupid look plastered on his face.

"State your business in this here town."

"B-business? Ah, sorry. Just passing through."

"Through to where? And whence did one such as yourself come?"

Oh, this wasn't good. His hometown was steeped in the rebellion! It would look suspicious were he to state that he was from a rebel village, just "passing through" this one of which the pink queen's control dangled by a red thread. Huh. To think their suspicions were correct—had to keep reminding himself he'd joined the faction.

Quick! Quick! Lie a solution which would sway their well-founded suspicion!

'_..._'

Great. What a time to flat-line, brain.

"Well—uh...y'see... The thing is—ah..." Doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed.

"Oh, hey, Captain Exalté! Long time no see!" an overtly cheerful voice interceded.

The captain angrily snapped at a blue-haired young man with a raging, "Hey—! You _dare_ dishonor—"

"Ah, right you are, Lieutenant Inutile!" Fists clenched, the captain was seeing blue. "However, I've no time to chitchat today, I'm afraid. M'buddy and I must be on our way. _Mille pardons_, Monsieur."

The mysterious blue-haired youth then proceeded to practically drag Len into a dark alley, leaving the captain to guffaw and stammer profanities of ranging sorts. When the pair was out of hearing range, the stranger finally released the blonde.

"Could you be _any _more subtle, Kaito?" Len rolled his eyes at the blue-haired eccentric's antics.

"And where'd the fun be in that? Catch 'em off guard—"

"And trip 'em while they're distracted—"

"Strut the tub o' lard—"

"Pawn the loot collected!"

Following what appeared to be some sort of friendship mantra, the teens broke into hearty laughter. It had been awhile since they had seen one another; their bond obviously hadn't faded in the least, however.

"Hadn't expected to meet you here, old buddy," Kaito chuckled. "What're you doin' way out here in the northeastern countryside?"

"I should ask you the same question."

"Ah, nothin' much, really. Just passing through."

"Same here."

"Whaddaya say to a drink, eh, old buddy?"

Another chapter of Kagamine Len's story began, then. He'd formed his first alliance.

...

One might wonder how it was that two such characters ever met. That's an interesting story in itself which will be visited at a later date, but perhaps this bite of information will be enough to satisfy for the moment: It revolves around death.

And while Kaito and Len caught up over a drink, they began to ponder over what they'd do. Revolution was threatening. Soon, all too soon, there'd be no such thing as "neutral", and attacks would be begotten on both sides, deaths and violence to each and every corner of the empire. There's no escaping the wildfire of revolution, nor is the stamping out of that fire any less violent and devastating.

It was no longer a ponder that war would soon tear the country apart.

This was the main topic of discussion over the boys' drinks.

Kaito alluded to his also being associated with the rebel forces. No one ever actually _said_ they were a rebel—that spelled a hanging, no matter a person's status. No, they just casually alluded to associations and relations, never even solid enough words to be charged on save by the most paranoid of judges. Judges paranoid with good reason. The pink queen was a persecuting young woman. She wasn't afraid to behead two hundred people in a single day, those people having held only the slightest suspicions as to their alliance with the rebel forces. She was a cruel woman who wasn't afraid to make an enemy of herself, who wasn't afraid to become _everyone's_ enemy, who wasn't afraid to have assassins attack her day in, night out. She was ruthless and merciless, no person being spared from her wrath. Queen Luka was a terrifying being, indeed. Thus, subtlety was key in Kaito and Len's conversations. Even in this bar, where just about every person within was nothing less than an all-out rebel, they had to speak lightly, lest someone of the _other side_ overhear, lest a double agent overhear, lest a soldier listening through the door or window overhear. Her spies were everywhere.

When their mugs were empty, the boys decided it was time to go.

"Where are you goin' next, Len?" Kaito asked. His eye glinted with a dark mischief, so it always seemed to do.

"Hm, not sure. I think I'll return southward. There's someone I'd like to meet."

"Meet? Whom?"

"Not sure. They call him 'Gakupo'. Apparently, he's a foreign ambassador."

"Ah, I've heard of him. Headed southward, myself, actually. Perhaps we'll run into one another yet again. Well, it's been nice catching up, ole buddy." With a wave, Kaito walked off into the simmering heat waves of the streets beyond. His hair resembled, for a brief moment, a skull.

Kaito was soon out of sight, yet Len still stared after him. His eyes were quiet. Watchful. Apprehensive.

His best friend had always held something of a dangerous edge. Others had always tended to shy away, sense that there was something..._wrong_ with the boy. No one could ever put their finger on it, but it simply... it was unsettling. Like death. Like the walking dead. Or something. It just kept others at bay, made them keep their distance; he an island of maddened... not peace, but more the calm before the storm. As though, at any moment, something horrible, something irreversible and unforgettable and just ever so horrible, might occur simply because a person had brushed against him on a crowded street.

Len had been the only one to approach him.

Neither was entirely sure as to why they got along so well, when no one else could stand them, themselves. There was just... a lingering death-aura that clung to them both. Len's was far more subtle, but nonetheless. Those with common traits tended to band together. Especially when they were surrounded by so many an enemy.

* * *

**A/N**  
Exalté – Hothead or Exalted  
Inutile – Useless  
Mille pardons - One thousand pardons  
I speak no French, so apologies if misused (totally open to corrections)

Okay, I finally finished the chapter!  
I'm currently debating over whether the next chappy will be about Luka or Gakupo. Or perhaps Teto. We'll see

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Reviews make me smile ^_^


	15. Fifteenth Absence: Where Fates Decide

**A/N**  
To try and speed things up _just_ a bit, the next few chappies will be of a bit more narrative style. And by narrative, I mean summarizing a wide range of events in but one chapter each

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Fifteenth Absence: Where Fates are Decided**

In a world of strife, peace is a cherished reprieve. An oasis in a desert of lacking and suffering. It's fought over, and henceforth destroyed, by all those who despise their own peace-less existences.

In reality, peace is rare. The human race is far too destructive for _real_ peace. The most they can concoct is an artificial edifice of pseudo equality and togetherness and opportunity and prosperity. A mask to disguise the ugly monster underneath. The insane, the lunatics, the off-in-the-headers, they know this. They recognize the fake peace, and they seek to reveal to everyone else how horrible their lives really are, how ugly they are inside, and how wretched the world they live in truly is. How it is of their own design that life is a constant agony, how every passing second or minute or hour is that tenfold, spent in a torture chamber.

If anything, it's the crazies who're the geniuses.

Everyone else is simply in denial.

No one else understands, for they are far too blind to see this universal truth. And for this ignorance, this ignorance which causes the knowing suffering, they shall pay.

Those of like minds, of like ideals, of tendencies, tend to band together. Such is the same in this scenario. The crazies comes together to discuss this horrible truth. That's how it's always been.

...

A dragon once roamed these lands. But, that was long, long ago. In a time immemorial to all but the descendents of those that chained it, those that lived through it.

The dragon was a mighty beast. It dreamed of things impossible, and when they didn't work out as expected, the dragon lashed out at the people it governed. Far too many died for its temper which flared unstably. For its dreams which could not come true.

Finally, the people had had enough. They attacked the dragon for the first time in its lifetime. This dragon which had thrown tantrums like a child did not know how to respond to this threat, for it truly was but a baby. The dragon was slain.

Not long after, its mother returned from her hunt to discover her baby's corpse afire in the villagers' cooking pots. She savagely attacked the people, tearing them limb from limb one by one. An inferno lighted the night sky. A picture of red painted the land, and the mother's fury did not cease 'til the song of one girl pierced the flames and screams. Now orphaned, the girl sang with a suddenly comprehensible grief, wailing her heart out at the skies above in agony, face dripping with familial blood. The mother could no longer kill, not when the child sang out with such an aching heart, her melody stilling the dragon's heart. The dragon fell into a sleep which lasted 'til the villagers killed her, along with the girl.

No one remembered when the third dragon appeared. Whether it flew in from lands distant, or awoke from the mountains, or had simply always _been_ without their noticing. All the stories told was of a dragon which could take the form of a teal-haired youth appearing from the mountains and forests to play with the village children. The children, entirely unaware of what it was they played their games with, would eventually grow up and forget about their enigmatic imaginary friend no adult had ever seen. Until their own offspring reported a long day's play with that same girl. Had they told stories of this girl? They couldn't remember, but it had to have been so, for they would go out to wait with their children for the girl to come, only for her to never appear. Must've just been the wild imagination of youth and the forgetfulness of age.

Then the singing started.

No one was sure when it began, but the people one night noticed the notes of a ghostly singer. And they spied a specter drifting through the streets.

An exorcism sent the ghost where it was originally intended to go, not a living soul bothering to wonder why it had lingered in the first place. They soon discovered the answer.

The dragon flew into a rage. It attacked children it had once played with, throwing off its veil of humanity. The people attacked the dragon, only for every slayer to be slain in the process, the only effect being an even angrier dragon.

This was not a baby. Even the mama dragon, which they had slain, had been impossible to kill until falling into a deep sleep. —A sleep brought on by that girl's singing!

The villagers rushedly brought out their best singer, freshly orphaned just like that girl from long ago, who sang a song which calmed the dragon. Before the people's eyes, the dragon morphed into human form and joined the child in its song, tears running down both their faces. No one had the heart to kill the dragon. They realized the ghost of that girl to have been the dragon's only friend, and that they had bonded through song.

A message was sent to the king. He, in turn, sent his most trusted vassals, his nobles and alchemists. They chained the dragon. They captured it, trapped it in the mountains. And, to keep the dragon from breaking its trappings, they locked the child with.

But, dragons lived 'til killed, while humans did not. A system was set. The first-born child of that same family was taken, was delivered to the current singer, and was raised to become the next. So this went on since time immemorial.

This was the story Luka imparted to Ruko. It was a reward for Ruko's obedience.

The insane had converged.

Ruko, who had cut out her own eye... and lain it on a bed of _sakura_ blossoms. Ruko, who had imparted to Luka of Meiko's close relationship with Teto.

Ruko, who was now Luka's secret favorite. Meiko had fallen out of her grace. Because of her red eyes. Because of her relationship with the girl of pink. That girl would die. And Meiko would do it. Meiko, so Ruko imparted, had bent the rules and prevented Teto's deportation to the camps where all pink-haired people were being sent. Ruko, who had been but a lowly servant-girl, was now being trained to fight. And she'd chosen her weapon: a sickle. It fit her. It matched her new eye patch. And that one remaining eye had also imparted to Luka of another of Meiko's betrayals: secret meetings with Teto. Most recently in the garden. Ruko, who was now Luka's secret favorite, would work in the shadows. And Teto would soon die.

...

Gakupo listened with a heavy heart as his daughter sobbed. She was no longer a little girl, but a young woman in all her rights. And her fiancé, her soul mate, had just been sent to the camps; his hair had been pink.

The father's heart clenched with every wracking gasp, every wheezing cry. He'd tried to comfort her, but she'd just shoved him away and ran to her room, slamming the door shut. Oh, what he would've done for a woman's help, but the nanny had long since been dismissed, and his daughter had never been assigned a governess, he considering them unnecessary. His daughter was a responsible young lady who knew what was expected of her, and wasn't some mindless tart that had to have decisions made _for_ her. But, some help would have been nice! Gakupo was a _samurai_, and _samurai_ weren't expected to let out great shows of emotion. He'd never learned how to deal with this sort of thing; and when she was a little girl or a teenager, he'd always had the nanny to fall back on for those crying fits.

Now, he had no one to fall back on, no one to help him. But what killed him the most was that he couldn't help his daughter. His precious little girl! All she had was the knowledge that her love would soon return from the camps. This whole fiasco had postponed their wedding; however, upon his return it would be held with even greater joy than before. For they would be reunited. And she would cry no longer.

With a sigh, Gakupo settled himself on the floor by her door. She may not want his comfort, but he'd at least be there for her in spirit, and right outside her door should she decide she couldn't bear this alone.

* * *

**A/N**  
Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	16. Sixteenth Absence: Where Dragon Chained

**A/N**  
Things are gonna starting contradicting each other, most prominently in this chapter. History's written by the winners. And those winners have a tendency to glorify and warp things in their favor. Last chapter was the winner. This chapter is the loser. Granted, both sides aren't exactly one hundred percent "right in the head". And each's perceptions differ, making neither correct nor incorrect

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Sixteenth Absence: Where a Dragon was Chained**

Sometimes, Miku wondered about where she came from. Sometimes, she had flashes of an imaginary existence. An existence where she was not alone. Where she was free—no. That was wrong. She wasn't free; but, she was happy. And she wasn't alone.

It was only a vague construction, and the recollection caused her great pain. Sometimes—no, every time she thought of this imaginary existence, her heart would clench so tight...she couldn't breathe. And she would faint in agony. As though there were something blocking that... memory? Was that what is was? Seemed too distant to be memory. Too separate from her current existence, it was easily theorized to have been some vagrant imagining thought up long ago. Something about that imagining had been painful. Oh, so painful. So painful that it hurt her heart to think of it. So she, more often than not, simply didn't think on it.

That wasn't a place she was meant to go.

And whenever she felt determined enough to send her mind to this place it did not belong, it was redirected to another memory. A _real _memory. Or so she was convinced.

...

Children were nice. They did not judge and, so long as one wasn't scary, were wonderful playmates who thought up the most creative of games. It was so much fun. To keep from frightening these playmates, Miku made herself up in pretty clothes, put up her hair in a pretty way. They said she was pretty. It made her heart flutter.

These children were not her friends, however. Miku could not reveal her true self to them. Something told her not to. That they would be afraid. That they would hate her. But there was one being that she did not fear revealing herself to: a ghost. The ghost of a girl. The girl was beautiful; hauntingly so. And her song was even more so. She sang words Miku could not follow; however, it had never been the words that entranced her. It had been the voice. The voice which seemed to wail with its every breath, which strung such chords in a lonesome heart. So lonely and heartbroken, itself.

Both were so alone. They belonged together. The best of friends. In Miku's mountain home, they would sing together and listen to the echoes. The echoes made it sound as though there were more than two of them. That they weren't so alone.

The ghost seemed to know something Miku didn't.

It took many years, but she eventually began to decipher the first pieces of the puzzle, even though she still failed to grasp the big picture.

Once, long ago, there had been three others like Miku. But they weren't alone. So, how were they similar? That the ghost wouldn't impart. But there were once three others. They were Neru and Haku; the third remained unnamed. Neru was prone to a temper, but that temper was only to disguise her concern for her fellow likenesses. She was always concerned for them. Especially when the villagers attacked. Eventually, having lived with enough persecution, the third travelled away from the mountain. Neru and Haku chose to stay, though. The people's attacks only worsened. Then, one day, they killed Neru. She'd been gathering trees for a fire in the cave, to try and light away its dreariness. But they'd snuck up and decapitated the girl. She never knew what hit her. Haku, concerned when her likeness failed to return that night, went off to search for Neru. Neru was found with her head transfixed on a pike at the entrance to the village. Her limbs marked the North, South, East, and West points of the village, her torso at the center of a great bonfire in the town square. Haku flew into a rage. She burned many people before the girl from whom's ghost Miku learned this tale began to sing. Haku fell to her knees and cried 'til the villagers beheaded her. They did the same to the girl. The third's whereabouts were unknown.

Miku continued to play with the village children. They grew up. This confounded her. Why did she not grow old like the children? She found new children to play with. These children brought their parents to meet her. Miku didn't quite understand why, but she felt compelled to hide from these adults. She felt that they would mean her harm if they found out the truth. ...The truth? Just what was this truth? The ghost refused to answer.

Neither Miku nor the ghost was aware, but the ghost's singing had caught the villagers' attention. Concerned that those old legends of dragons were true, they sent a message to the king asking for his guidance.

His response surprised them all.

The king came to the village. And he brought vassals, knights, alchemists, and necromancers with. He told the people that, should there be any power of the dragons in this ghost, he would harness it. He would use it for war.

The power gained was not as expected.

No one had any real understanding of how they were supposed to harness this ghost. It was a simple enough task for the necromancers to capture it. The king tried to interrogate it. He pushed the ghost too far. She passed on.

Miku exploded.

No matter how the knights fought, they were quickly slain. Nothing could match her fury as blood painted her face in great vermillion flowers. Slash, slash, slash! She lashed out, throwing arcs of flame, swinging her claws, but they just kept coming. She fought with a desperate fervor, struggling under the weight of her grief, her loneliness, her isolation. And now under the bodies piled atop her, surrounding her, crunching beneath her feet. Suddenly, Miku was tired—so very tired. It was soon revealed why.

The alchemists and necromancers had sacrificed those knights in order to seal her. Alchemists used the corpses as material for their spells, their alchemic circle drawn out in blood, pre-drawn as grooves carved into the stone. Necromancers harnessed the soldiers' souls to add further fuel to the spell. To hold Miku still.

With all the knights dead, the king's vassals were his only surviving servants. They took it upon themselves to physically restrain Miku. At this point, she'd broken out in tears, just like Haku, and was sobbing helplessly, thrashing against the spells. It was not difficult to chain her. To put on the mask, even as she screamed for them not to. Begged them to just let her die. That she'd rather be dead than alone. And she'd kill them all for this.

When the mask slid on, all Miku's tears stopped. Sobs caught in her throat. The vassals released her, and Miku slid boneless-ly to the ground. While she was unconscious, they carried her back into the mountain, sealing it physically and mystically. Making it possible to enter but never exit.

The king called on his country's greatest singer. It was a yellow-haired youth he threw into the mountain with Miku. He marked that child's family as royal property, setting up a system where the first-born of every generation was removed from its parents at birth, sent to the mountain to be raised by the singer and never know of the outside world.

...

After recalling all this, Miku would remember the yellow-haired girl living with her in the mountain. She often forgot about the girl. So quiet, but armed with a voice gifted from the Heavens.

—No, that—wait. What?

This girl was different. What had happened to the other, again?

...

Hm, she couldn't remember. She had vague images of a blue dress having been stained red. Memories of a... _roar_. The dragon! Had it attacked the singer? That would explain why this new girl sang. But... why did things seem to overlap?

_She now lay bleeding and broken, her blood tainting the ice-blue of the stone. No longer did she wish to sing in rejoice. No longer did she wish to dance._

Strange... The more Miku thought back on it, the more it seemed as though she were watching from outside her body. But...

Miku let out an anguished scream which echoed through the mountain. She pulled at her hair, swinging her staff at the icy walls of her prison.

What was this‽ She just couldn't understand!

Why was it she held memories of being attacked by a monster—by a dragon—but—but—she saw that very same attack from the perspective—of the dragon‽ Why was she dreamed of monsters stalking her in the shadows, yet it was she who was enticed by the beautiful dresses of the singers. Why was she held memories of people she didn't know, and whenever she though on them she fainted?

Why was this happening‽ Why did nothing make sense‽ It made no sense, it was too horrible, it wasn't acceptable!

Nothing made any sense‼

These weren't places she was meant to go.

The singers died all the time. That previous one was dead, too. Killed by the dragon. By _they_ who had chained her. There was a new singer, now. A girl with blonde hair in a white dress. She was pale and golden-eyed, and although she often sang of how she was hopeless... Miku could sense her Hope. She could sense the girl's dreams of a world where everyone smiled. Where light reigned free. Where Hope was true and dreams were realized.

They both sensed it.

They both sensed that someone was coming. Neither was aware that it was Len, Rin's twin brother. But they knew he was coming. That he would save them both.

However, they also sensed that it wouldn't be easy.

* * *

**A/N**  
Hey, can someone held me with this stupid sentence: "No longer did she wish to sing in rejoice." I can't figure out how to make it less awkward...

Other than that! How did you like the two sides of that story? In the beginning of this little ficlet of mine, Miku had run away and been attacked by the dragon. Now it seems that wasn't real? Or perhaps it was, and this is all simply Master toying with Miku... Or maybe it's both! Who knows, who knows...

Hm, now to figure out what next chappy will focus on... I think Meiko deserves the spotlight—so next chappy shall be about her!

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Did I mention I love reviews?


	17. Seventeenth Absence: Where Murder?

**A/N**  
Might I recommend "Marionette" 「クグツ」 to you all (the song for this songfic chappy)? I never knew Miku could do heavy metal before I listened to that song! I also root for "Eternal Force Blizzard" 「恒久の氷結」 by Sukone Tei

And I forgot to specify before, but the ghost who sang to Miku was Amane Luna. Trying to keep OCs to a minimum

Prepare for randomness—yet more madness to come ;D It's confusing on purpose. Also, warning: language (damn, there is so little dialogue in this story... can't believe this is the first time I've had to put up a warning of any sort lol)

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Seventeenth Absence: Where Murder...?**

_To my exposed self in the rain of disappointment  
__You came close to me, saying that you loved me  
__And hugged me tightly_

Teto and Meiko had been friends so long as Meiko could remember. Teto was kind and wise. No one disliked her. She was simply too likeable.

Throughout her childhood, Teto was Meiko's confidante. Luka was the only person to hate Teto, and it was for this. Teto, who had simply appeared from thin air and stolen Luka's only friend—Teto, who had waltzed into _Luka's_ kingdom and automatically made everyone like her more than the lonesome queen, stealing all her friends and servants for herself—Teto, who bore pink hair just like Luka, stealing even her trademark, sakura-kiss locks the maids once loved to preen over—Teto, who ignored Luka, leaving the lonesome girl to her solitude.

_'I'll be liked, too_,' she swore to herself, watching on as Teto and Meiko and some purple-haired girl flounced through the gardens with ribbons in their hair and giggles on their lips. Except... Luka didn't know how to like. She didn't know what it was to be liked. All she could do was stand by, shoulders slumped, spirit overcast, throat clogged with an unspeakable emotion that made her eyes burn.

For years, it felt, this went on.

Until, one day, Teto finally noticed Luka. Or perhaps, she acknowledged her. Could it have been distrust that lingered in her tone when they first spoke? Spite at the mentioning of royalty? Anger at the idea of meeting a member of that ever-dreaded secret council? But as time passed, Teto seemed to realize that Luka was not like her forefathers (not yet); she was simply a lonesome girl forced to grow up too fast and too alone.

"_We'll be the bestest of friends,_" Teto had said, hugging Luka tightly.

'_And I'll watch you burn when that friendship is revealed for the farce it is,_' Luka thought, even as she thoughtlessly, instinctively, needing-ly turned into the embrace, arms tightening around the other girl as if by a mind of their own.

_Like a miracle, the world shined light  
__I replied to hope and sacrificed everything_

Before Luka knew it, she and Teto were the "bestest" of friends. Meiko, too.

Not that anyone knew. Not that they really spent much any time together. Luka was a very busy girl; she had to learn multiple languages, train herself to think of her kingdom's history as her own, learn the twisting ways of court politics, read volumes and write volumes-worth of letters. Meiko and Teto only looked on, giving Luka their silent support.

More than once, Luka was punished for sneaking off with the other girls and skipping out on her studies.

However, for once, in the madness of an incarcerated childhood, Luka possessed that elusive demon known only as Hope.

Meiko, born to a commoner mother and noble father, rejected by all her other peers, glowed at the attention she received from Teto and Luka alike. They weren't mean to her like the other children or even the adults. She swore that she would protect Teto and Luka both from the evil of the world, outside their small circle of Friendship and Hope.

_Your laughing, singing, dancing marionette  
__You said you wanted it; where is that self now?_

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I don't understan—"

"But of course you don't! I have you cornered, see. I know what you have been doing all these years—you lecherous traitor!"

"Why do you call me a traitor? I am your oldest friend, you mine. I have only ever had your interests at heart, and my desire to serve and protect you, milady, has only grown over these long years. I wouldn't—_couldn't_ betray you. I am no traitor. And neither is—"

"Lies, _lies_!" Luka screeched. Her cry echoed unnaturally through the tunnel, amplified by crevices in the stone, echoing like millions of bats.

"You _bitches_! You lied and favored your way into my courts. You _conned_ your way into my home. You connived your way into my heart—_no more_! I won't stand for it! Rot in Hell—in the deepest pits of it—burning alive—weeping as you have attempted to make me, with your trickery and insubordination."

Meiko shook with anger. "Luka—what has come over you‽" she cried. Tears were in her eyes. They stung from the heat of her fury, her betrayal, her confusion, her grief. "Ever since Carrefour, you've been acting strangely. Why have you taken Teto away, even after all my efforts to keep her here, with us, together as we all belong? Where is our friendship? What _is_ our friendship to you, that you could so carelessly toss it aside, so suddenly, so cruelly, without warning or preempt?"

_Pull, pull_—_by pulling the loose threads_

'_I called you my _friend_. I now call you my _enemy_!_' Luka tore Friendship apart, killed it, murdered it, decapitated it, laid out its gutted remains for scavengers.

_I kissed your illusion_

Her smile as she broke what were once her friends—it reminded of bloody sakura. She laughed madly, dancing through the remains of shattered Friendship, disemboweled Hope. She petted the scavengers (Ruko...), glowing at the attention they paid her art.

Her madness became reality. And she blew a kiss to fleeting rationality.

_Hug me, hug me_—_hug me until I break  
__If I break, you can throw me away  
__Wavering with lies, you have no words to say  
__Your temperature is no longer here_

'_Luka has sent Teto to the camps!_ _It's a hellhole in those camps—they're given no food, no water, no dignity. I hear they've begun burning people alive...under my dear Luka's orders._

'_What do I do? Luka is my friend. But so is Teto. And she's _hurting_ Teto!_

'_Could it be that Luka's aware of Teto's secret? Is that why she feels betrayed? Because we didn't tell her? Oh, but how could we... How _could_ we tell her—no! Luka's our friend, how could we _not_ tell her the truth?_

'..._I received word that Teto was killed in the camps. Luka says she deserved it. She tells me I should be glad that one traitor is no longer in our midst. My only other companion, Gakupo-dono's daughter, she—she—_

'_I have no one. All my friends—gone. My family has disappeared, as well. All I have left is Luka._

'_She slapped me when I objected to the construction of another camp. I did not object. I must kill my heart, for I've been assigned to collect the pink- and red-attributed peoples of the east. Perhaps I deserve this Hell. Should she break me, I deserve that, too. However, I cannot break on my own. There's too much to do._

'_It's like Luka is evolving into another entity entirely. When we were young, she was introverted and shy, but a good girl inside; just lonely. Now, Luka is cruel. She smiled when I bled after a duel. My blood was sprayed across my opponent's pink hair, just before I decapitated them. I'm getting sloppy. Perhaps it is I who has changed._

'_I killed a child today. I feel no guilt._'

_To me who didn't have a reason to live  
__You showed me  
__Joy, happiness, and hope_

Grief does strange things to the mind. It twists one's conscience, tangles one's morals, decimates one's moral compass. Suddenly, up is down and black is white. Right is wrong, good is bad, evil isn't anomalous, kindness is deception, slavery is love.

'_Queen Luka is my reason for being..._'

_Dark clouds that covered me are gone  
__The cloudy lens reflected the shiver of light_

"...What is this?" Horror shook Meiko's heart-hardened voice.

"My forefathers' crowning achievement..." Queen Luka's smile could make a charging bull drop dead.

Its roar knocked both women off their feet. Queen Luka laughed. Meiko felt her heart crack a little more. '_What have I done..Teto..._'

_Love; the love-deprived marionette you wanted  
__You said you wanted it; where is that self now?  
__I can feel the heat through the long strings  
__I want to be one with you_

Meiko marched her soldiers into battle.

"This is a rebel village. If you find someone with pink or red, capture them. Otherwise, we take no prisoners."

The heat of battle. The heat of blood running down her face, soaking her hair, painting her armor. The heat of Queen Luka's smile as she admired the sight of all the pink- and red-attributed prisoners Meiko managed to corral.

Queen Luka turned to Meiko with that same haunting smile. "Now. Burn them."

_Pull me, pull me—Pull me until I break  
__I want to feel your presence  
__I can't see your lie-soaked face  
__I can't remember your smile_

Meiko obeyed without question.

_Sadness is slowly building up  
__Love and hate for you is overflowing_

A scream pierced the night.

Sobs welled up. "Oh, Teto... what have I done?"

The image refused to leave her. She couldn't sleep without seeing it. Without seeing Teto, crying tears of blood. Horribly thin, cheeks hollow, hair mussed and dirtied, tainted with blood, blood, blood! In the background, they screamed. The golden-haired singers, reaching out, pleading to be freed from their eternal prison. One of the golden-haired women. She was reaching out, screaming for her babies, begging them to give her darling back. '_The past that had nowhere to go_,' she whispered. The bodies were piling up, the sadness smothering. '_Remember what you promised—!_'

And then Meiko wakens in a screaming fit.

_Your laughing, singing, dancing marionette  
__You said you wanted it; where is that self now?  
__Pull, pull—by pulling the loose threads  
__I hung to your illusion  
__Hug me, hug me—hug me until I break  
__If I break, you can throw me away  
__Wavering with lies, you have no words to say  
__Your presence is no longer here_

She could not continue living like this. No one could. She had to kill her heart. For Luka. Because Teto was gone—there's no changing that! So why, oh why, did it hurt so much?

* * *

**A/N**  
Sorry about yet another huge delay ^^'...

Oh, and I got a question in a review concerning the pairings. This fic's focus is in no way on pairings. Will there be pairings? I dunno. I can tell you one thing: I am not doing twincest! So no LenXRin in any way other than the love between a brother and sister. LenXMiku? We'll see. The only thing I've got planned out is the plot; otherwise, I'm making this up as I go, including _all_ the relationships between the characters. I'm not taking requests, either; it ends up however it ends up. If I'm pissing anyone off with this announcement, I apologize

And for those of you who didn't catch it, Gakupo's purple-haired daughter killed herself. Her fiancé died in the camps

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	18. Eighteenth Absence: Where Dead Stand

**A/N  
**Well, I think it's high time we have some fun with Kaito and Gakupo. Mostly Kaito lol. I'm gonna have a bit of fun with his character; I think this story needs some more insanity ^^  
PS: "Tousan" is exactly the same as "Otousan" (Father), except that it's missing the honorific "o", making it slightly more casual an address. And, for when Luka addresses Gakupo, I had her use his surname, Kamui, to be more formal, alongside the honorific. Strange how a queen's addressing a simple diplomat with such a high honorific like "dono"... Guilt, perhaps?

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Eighteenth Absence: Where the Dead Stand**

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Gakupo looked on with dead eyes, nodding absently, the words but gibberish breezing over his eardrums.

One moment, she stood before him, her hair done up, a smile curving her lips. The next, she lay before him, her hair done up, the lackluster following rigor mortis flattening her lips in a distinctly not_-her_ manner. Her expression was...peaceful. But no makeup artist could ever hope to completely cover the wrenched skin on her cranium or the hole in her neck where bone once protruded. This _corpse_—i-it wasn't _her_. It wasn't his smiling, laughing, loving daughter. The one who always asked for "One more story, Tousan, just one more, please?" Oh! he could feel his heart clenching, his throat closing, just at the idea that she wouldn't pester him tomorrow morning to invite Meiko and Teto over for tea.

"I'm very sorry this happened, Kamui-dono. Your daughter was a close friend."

"Yes, thank you, Your Highness. That makes two of us," he murmured softly. His voice was as strained as his tear ducts. It didn't even occur to him that he'd never once seen the two girls together outside formal functions. Then again, her words didn't exactly register. No one's did. They were all just voices murmuring on by, indeterminate, indistinguishable. Their condolences fell on deaf ears.

In a blur of time and space, Gakupo found himself standing outside her door. He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, didn't even remember leaving the living room, or why the stars lit the hallway when he could've sworn it'd only just been the sun. All he could see was that closed door. All he could hear was silence on the other side. Just... empty. Dead.

He blinked. Took a deep breath.

Opened the door.

The handle was worn smooth, the blown glass cold to the touch. He'd never noticed how it sparkled in the starlight before. Or realized how much he'd treasured the sight of her painted nails contrasting the opalescent paleness of the knob. Such an insignificant thing. Suddenly so significant.

Gakupo sighed.

The room was exactly as she'd left it. The curtains billowed on the breeze, shattered glass glowing on the floor, dried blood black on the white fabric. A diamond ring—no, _the_ diamond ring—sparkled in the starlight, blending in with the glass in its refracted beauty; a strand of purple hair clung to the jewel, probably from her hands' nervous wont to run through her gorgeous, oh so gorgeous, tresses. One high-heeled shoe dangled precariously from the sill, right where it had fallen from her foot as she climbed onto the ledge, up the ivy, atop the roof, through the air. He knew he was imagining it, but a shard of glass, spattered with blood, glowing in the shoe, looked like one of the thousands of tears he knew she'd shed upon deciding. It was strange how everything grew blurry, almost watery, at the thought.

When awareness next came to him, the _samurai_ found himself lying on her bed, looking up at that same violet canopy she'd once woken up to every morning. This view, too, was blurry. Why was everything so damn blurry?

Gakupo rubbed at his eyes with a frustrated groan. He must've spilt his _sake_ earlier, as he could've sworn his gloves felt wet.

"'Tis tragic."

Gakupo jerked upright at those words.

"That the pink queen has lost her mind, I mean."

The voice echoed off the walls, its source indeterminate. Darkness swirled. It was soft like rose petals, hard as ancient bone. Swirling, swirling. Like draining water—only, it was pouring in, instead of flowing out. Purple eyes flitted to and fro as the voice continued.

"You should know, she slayed a dragon. An ancient dragon. If I do recall, your people worship them. I guess it doesn't matter much to you, though; grief has a way of blurring one's view of reality." A chuckle. "I should know."

The _samurai_ paced across the floor, searching for this being who dared intrude on his grief. Who dared enter this sacred room where his daughter last breathed.

Something began to materialize from the darkness. A hazy form, so dark a blue it seemed black, swirling, intangible as vapor, smoother than mist. As Gakupo approached, a blade slid from beneath his sleeve; it shone deathly pale in the starlight.

"Of course... grief is also a wonderful eye-opener, too." Another chuckle. "Again, I should know."

The voice still couldn't be pinned to a single spot, not even this swirl of blue. It echoed, amplified by the darkness and billowing curtains. Shimmered ethereally.

"It is also a tool for control."

This time, it wasn't a chuckle. Insane laughed pierced the darkness, solidifying the blue into a robe, a shard of glass into a mask, swirling, swirling, swirling insanity! His mouth was wide, teeth stark white, eye black. He laughed, screamed his grievous joy.

—Just as suddenly as it began, his laughter cut off. This. This was the source of the voice.

"The pink queen would know this." He gave a lecherous smirk. Gakupo felt ice slide down his spine, clinging to each vertebrae, and fought off a shiver.

"What do you want?" His voice was steel, thankfully; his nerves were watery, at best, although hidden beneath his long-standing poise.

The stranger stepped forward, a mad grin twisting his lips. "Twists and turns, lies and grandeur—they dwell in the darkness, pulling you in with. Grief is my mask, confusion is my screen, truth is my breath. Up—is down. Wrong—is right. Dictate reality, alter perceptions, tear empty space." He twirled, and the golden hangings on his robe tinkled like clacking bones. For a brief moment, his half-mask resembled a skull, his pale face that of a corpse. "The dead walk, Monsieur. They sing, they speak to us. On this night, this very eve, they dance. Dance and sing and pray and... _hope_.

"Do you know what the dead hope for, Monsieur?"

Gakupo held his blade at the ready, backing away from the stranger. This guy was crazy! Yet...

"Peace," he answered.

Why did he answer such a ridiculous question? Why even pay attention to this madman's ranting?

Yet another chuckle passed through those pale lips. "I do wonder about that. Is there ever, truly, peace in death? How is a restless spirit supposed to rest? Especially when the living refuse to allow that spirit its well-deserved sleep.

"What if I were to tell you, Monsieur, that this day's dead do not rest in peace? That not just your lovely daughter, but many others, uninvolved in the pink queen's conflict, do not sleep peacefully in their afterlives. That supposed innocents are made to suffer an unending purgatory—all for one family's greed." Strange how he wasn't posing these scenarios as questions. The stranger belted out a laugh. "Do you know what I am, my friend?"

The _samurai_ only glared.

The stranger's grin quite suddenly left him. A frown tugged at his lips, pulling that single eye down into further darkness.

"The afterlife has been altered. The dead do not sleep. _Someone_ is playing the Fates, altering their destined design for personal profit.

"You see, Monsieur, my business is with the dead. I much prefer not to interact with the living—so drab and self-absorbed," he sneered. "However, it is the living whom are interfering with my work. They are tampering with both the living and the un-living. Altering the passage of souls, of energy, of death and life and the eternity. They are _breaking_ the cycle—a cycle which must never be broken.

"You know of what I speak... my friend.

"Tell me. What happens when a carp overcomes a waterfall?"

"It becomes a dragon."

"Yes! Yeees. You see, it is only right that this meager fish be rewarded for its efforts with dragon-hood. That is why dragons are so very powerful. Theyhaveovercome," he spewed, speaking as though it were the single most important and obvious fact in the universe. "Twists and turns, my friend. Do not get lost in this maze of deception. Master won't have his prized _samurai_ losing so much face. You are angry. You are lost and grieving. Your daughter was stolen from you, unrighteous-ly. Remember that fact."

"What does my grief have to do with dragons?"

It was then that Gakupo noticed his blade was gone. He'd retracted it inside his sleeve! He started, both at this fact and at the fact that he'd taken such interest in this madman's words.

Strangely, the stranger did not chuckle, as he might have been expected to. Instead, he grew graver.

"As I have said—a dragon has been slain. Twists and turns, lies and grandeur have hidden this truth. I breathe this truth into you, pass unto you this mission. So tell me. How does one kill a dragon."

"You _do not_ kill a dragon. Dragons are immortal, manifested magic."

The stranger's smile returned. "You are correct, my friend. However, you are also incorrect. Do you know why?" This time, the smile was playful, rather than insane.

"Do tell."

A chuckle. "I am humbled. It should be you who is humbled, however. To think that you were in contact with a dragon on a near daily basis, until recently."

Gakupo's composure nearly shattered. "_What_? That is utterly ridiculous—"

"Dragons were once carp. It should only make sense that they may shape-shift. Your daughter was friends with a genuine, ancient dragon. The pink queen has since killed that dragon. Apparently, she has convinced herself and her knight that the dragon betrayed them." His laugh grew maddened. "And they call _me_ insane." He swaggered forward, self-confidence oozing from his every breath. "She made her knight kill the dragon, and then manipulated that knight yet more when she convinced them that the dragon had been killed in her pink and red concentration camps." He all but scoffed that last statement. His words were venomous arrows, spoken to Gakupo but aimed elsewhere, and the _samurai_ had a good guess who it was that had earned themselves such a dangerous enemy.

"...Might I ask for your name?"

"I care not what you call me, Kamui Gakupo. Only that you take my words into consideration.

"You are angry. You are grieving. Twists and turns, twists and turns, my friend—_who_ is truly at fault for your daughter's death. I do not ask you, for I know you are already aware... perhaps not consciously, but aware nonetheless. Make your decision, breathe in truth like so much air. See through the veil obscuring your sight. Alter your perceptions, change the reality, tear empty space.

"A castle of blue stone awaits."

* * *

**A/N**  
Ah, wordplay ^^

I dislike dialogue. Every word a person speaks... it tells volumes about them. One must always be careful with how they write the characters' dialogue, thus I generally simply attempt to avoid using it. This chapter is the single most dialogue-filled one to have yet appeared in this story. I messed around with Kaito's dialogue beyond compare. I wanted him to be cryptic, his words full of riddles. He was also pretty cryptic and evasive in ch 14, if I do recall, although nowhere near as melodramatic lol. I hope I didn't go overboard, though... I place a very high importance on any and all dialogue, every _single_ spoken line, and sometimes get too caught up in the details, I'll admit

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Come now, I got this chappy out _pretty_ quick compared to others. Don't you wana review with joy...?


	19. Nineteenth Absence: Where SignAriseFight

**A/N**  
I've incorporated actually poetry once before in a chapter... I figure I should be consistent, thus another poem, created just for this story, rather than coincidental similarities ^^

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky**  
_Vocaloids gone missing…_

**Nineteenth Absence: Where Signs Arise to Fight**

She breathes, her breath a lyric  
In a day, she is and is not  
Green nonexistent  
Nothing but blue

Skies overhead, a blurring azure  
Inside and out, white day black night  
Grow, grow, grasses unending  
Never ending dunes of sand

A race against time  
Really, should this be so hard  
I am without friend, only missing ally  
Singing echoes in my ear, haunts my dream  
Evermore, I search out that voice, presence not me

Fidget nervously  
Into the cave I go, milady  
Guess to whom I sing, I quell  
High above or low below, I find her  
Time is of the essence, lest she be fury

Sister dear of mine  
Intended designs I battle  
Great Master, to you  
Never do I bow

Singing, angel of the blue darkness  
Infer your suffering, I do  
Gem of shadow  
New light

* * *

**A/N**  
The poem most certainly deserves an explanation  
Look at the first letters of every line. They spell: SIGN SIGN ARISE FIGHT SIGN SIGN  
The first verse...paragraph... I forget the term! Whatever. It's a description of Rin's life as the singer. The second's a description of Len's life searching for her. The third is from Len's perspective, how Rin haunts him. The fourth is from Rin's perspective, her daily suffering and fear, waiting. The fifth is Len swearing he'll never bow to Master's puppeteer-ing. The sixth is Miku looking upon Rin, recognizing her potential against the Master who has made her suffer so

I do not know when I'll next update. My sister has pulled me into the _Star Wars_ fandom (enough so that I'm now reading the Extended Universe), thus I'm very distracted... well, moreso than usual lol

Either way, gift for my ever-beloved readers, this poem is ^^ Two updates in one day—who knew!

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion?


	20. Twentieth Absence: Where Treason Thought

**A/N**  
My laptop broke, and the _assholes_ I sent it to in order to fix it instead broke it some more. So I'm on a different computer, and I absolutely hate typing on a foreign keyboard—my typing speed gets cut in half! However, it's the two year anniversary of this story. It deserves an update, and you, my beloved readers, deserve so much more than my unreliable updates. Here's to you, readers! Happy New Year!

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky  
**_Vocaloids gone missing..._

**Twentieth Absence: Where Treason is Contemplated  
**

Queen Luka had seemed ever so understanding towards Gakupo's daughter's tragic death. She spoke of how bright the purple-haired girl's smile had been, how bubbly her laughter. He couldn't help smiling at the memory.

However, that..._magician_'s words clung to his conscience. They whispered devilish things about the pink queen. Or perhaps those were the servants' whispers, despairing over their friends' sudden disappearances; or the sight of those bloody heads impale on pikes; or the mass graves which stank of rotted flesh and feces; or the screams and smoke off in the distance as the army decimated yet another rebel village. It seemed every village was a part of the rebellion!

Even though she seemed so kind and understanding towards his plight, Gakupo couldn't help wondering if it was all an act. His darling daughter had killed herself, ostensibly, because of something Queen Luka did: the concentration camps. Wretched things, they were. The _samurai_ himself had only viewed them from a distance, but the scent of misery was unmistakable. His future son-in-law died in one of those camps.

It was incomprehensible. How could Queen Luka commission these wretched things, when she herself had pink hair‽ Perhaps she was being manipulated... That woman with the eye-patch was certainly suspicious, and those "councilors" were not so pleasant either. "_'Tis tragic. That the pink queen has lost her mind, I mean._" Those words worried Gakupo greatly. They made him question his assumptions.

What if Queen Luka wasn't actually concerned over his grief and the loss of her once-friend? What if she felt _guilty_ for her role in the purple maiden's suicide? Yet she did not feel guilty enough to own up to these responsibilities, instead feeding _Kamui-dono_ commiserating mantras of worry for his health, sorrow for his loss, mortification over his daughter's fall over the edge. Nothing about her own role in the suicide. Nothing about the concentration camps where pink- and red-attributed peoples suffered, where they wallowed in Crown-imposed misery, unjustly stolen from everything they had ever known simply for possessing red eyes or pink hair or some other such discriminatory nonsense. No one deserved that treatment. Yet Queen Luka dealt it out with fervor. And she never—not once—explained why.

The truly frightening thing was... it seemed even the pink queen didn't know why.

Had she truly lost her mind?

What did that mean, if she had? What was to be done? She couldn't simply be removed from the throne. The nobles all supported her, as she provided them vast tracts of land confiscated from the rebels, hoards of serfs in the form of captured refugees, chests filled with gold from other countries bribing her not to bring her army's wrath upon them. Her soldiers were special; they seemed imbued with a magical force which could not be conquered by conventional weapons. Swords clanged uselessly against their armor, and the metal chest plates glowed bright with supernatural endowments. Queen Luka was not a woman to be trifled with, and she had made clear her lack of mercy towards any fool clumsy enough to reveal untoward intentions against her rule. Her smile was bubbly—he'd thought it with innocence, but that was now clearly untrue. The more he though on this, the more Gakupo puzzled over how he could have ever thought her kind. Who was this monster in a maiden's body?

But he could do nothing against her. Gakupo lived in his mansion by her goodwill, he breathed another breath by her mercy. He wanted to tear this house apart, brick by bloody brick—to rave and scream against this injustice, his own foolishness for having been tricked into believing her true. He wanted to tear that smile off her face with his bare hands, to burn it so it no longer resembled bloody _sakura_ blooms. But what good was he dead? Nothing could be accomplished in death, and while his skin crawled at the idea of continuing to live under this madwoman's rule, his brain made clear that such was the best option.

There were rebels everywhere. He had to get in contact with them! However... great risk came with this contact. Queen Luka did not hesitate to execute children; she would show him no mercy, either. And while his darling daughter's death left him yearning for an escape, he knew that this escape would not be found in the form of an eternal sleep. He need only contact the rebels, covert meetings to pass on his support, funds, information—anything to assist them in their cause, all without getting caught.

Such thoughts were treason. There was no denying this. However, such a thing no longer mattered. Kamui Gakupo was a man with a mission, and he would bring do anything and everything in his power to bring down Queen Luka, the pink queen, the monster in a maiden's body.

* * *

**A/N**  
Such a strange thought, that this story is now two years old... Hmph

Sorry this chapter's so short. It's transitional. And I only got three hours of sleep last night, so I'm too tired to finish the second chapter tonight... I'll try to post it tomorrow ^^ And I guarantee it'll be longer

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Reviews make me smile :)


	21. TwentyFirst Absence: Where Screams Echo

**A/N**  
Sheesh, that was one long tomorrow. *nervous chuckle* Ehh, lots of stuff happened between January third and now... I don't know why you guys still read this story O_O It's even in a C2 now—what the hell‽ That's never happened before with the stories I _do_ update consistently‼ Err...used to, anyways. In retrospect, I do very much miss writing, so maybe... But don't get your hopes up

So... What do you guys think of the new summary? The old one kind of rankled me since it only covered the underlying subplot...

* * *

**Looking for You in the Sky  
**_Vocaloids gone missing..._

**Twenty-First Absence: Where the Screams Resonate**

_Hatsune Miku_

Memories flittered by like butterfly wings: gentle, almost imaginary. Hazy recollections of laughter and smiles, togetherness, camaraderie. Such foreign feelings, yet oh so right.

With a twirl, the thoughts drifted away, and the blue dragon watched, entranced, as its scales shimmered in the light. Around her, massive crystals towered high overhead, their bases evanescing beneath the mists below. It was hypnotic: melodies of flowing water with no source. Listening to it, watching the shifting mists for that elusive river she knew to exist, she would drift off into a hazy mindlessness, consciousness wandering, solid thought distant. She didn't want to think, so think she did not, instead leaving her mind to swirl into a nebulous blur. There was no contemplation or fear over this thoughtlessness, this condition where she became little more than a blue-ice zombie, only a faint smile on her lips as she was finally released from the tortures of her own thoughts, memories, and pseudo-memories and the horrifying contemplations that came with trying to discern reality from unreality. It made her ache all over: a mountain in the middle of her path to understanding, insurmountable. No, she would simply wander this blankness, revel in this thoughtless paradise where everything was light and shadow, a shimmer of beauty, no wonder. Wondering was dangerous. Wondering drove one mad...

But then the singing would cease. It always seemed to cease when she was in this vulnerable state.

When she came to, it was already over.

Miku screamed, a howl of despair that shook the foundation of the Earth itself with her sorrow. Around her lay splatters of blood, of gore, of golden hair and tattered fabric. Blood covered her hands, webbing between her fingers, dripping off her chin like the tears she could not shed. She clawed at her face, screaming, screaming! to get this viscous _thing_ off her! But it would never be gone, no matter how feverishly she clawed at it—it was never gone!

She raced for that circle of crystals, searching for the water she knew would wash off this taint, but she could find no water, could see no river. It taunted her with its melody, and she screamed, tore at the stone, slammed her staff against the crystals. Metal clanged, rock tumbled, wails echoed. Miku pulled at her hair, but that only spread the blood, and all to soon was her blueness tainted with this wretched red. It glared, accusing.

"What have I done‽"

Her cries echoed through the halls of this castle of blue stone, empty, overflowing. These screams that had nowhere to go, instead only echoing back at her, as if to amplify her agony.

Nothing was gentle, not so long as this blood tainted her. And forever would it do so. Why won't it come off? Why does the water torment me so‽ Where has my singer gone, that beautiful being who so lulls my rage, who possesses the power to offer sleep to my restless soul?

Miku screams, Miku rages, Miku sobs, Miku collapses.

In a heap on the floor, surrounded by bone and blood, corpses never given proper burial, souls never settled to their well-earned rest, the blue dragon curled in upon herself. No tears rolled down her cheeks. Her mask shone brilliantly in the blue light of those bars keeping her trapped within this frozen Hell, disguised as beautiful crystals which light the darkness. But Hell is still Hell; illuminating it only throws the suffering of the damned into stark relief, and there is no more hiding.

When she finally returned to reality, the first sound she heard was not that of the water she could not see. It was the cry of an infant.

Hesitantly, a smile pulled at her lips.

...

_Yowane Haku_

Where is Neru? Where is she, my darling blonde light, my friend who hides her delicate heart behind brashness? She who is so kind, underneath that fiery façade, who knows nothing of gentle expression, of baring her soul—so fragile, so pure, so bright. Where is she? Where is Neru?

The white dragon crashed through the forest, tearing trees from the ground, hurling the massive trunks far off into the distance. Panicked. She was panicking, panicking, _panicking!_ Where had Neru gone? Where, oh, where‽

The villagers, so cruel, they couldn't have—no, Neru's smarter than that. Don't hurt My Akita!

Haku screams, Haku rages, Haku sobs, Haku collapses.

She could sense it, feel it in the deepest depths of her soul, that she was too late. That the world was cruel. That life was never easy. Although she could not admit it, she knew the truth, and there was no doubting this instinctual _knowing_, no matter how much she wished she could.

Haku couldn't process any sort of _reason_ when she crashed into the village. There was no logic. There was only death.

When the village burned, she laughed. It was so funny! Hahaha. Look at them flee and scream and sob. Such pathetic beings—unable to fend her off, unable to summon up flames of their own. They threw spears and torches at her, but such flimsy toys were nothing against her tough, blood-stained white hide.

Hahaha—haha ha!

Oh the joys of _DEATH_.

Laughing, laughing, _laughing_ their screams away, Haku terrorized the villagers, tore them limb from wailing limb, reveling in that sickening _squelch_ when organs ruptured and that _kraaaaack!_ when bones shattered. So entranced was she by the blood lining the streets in widening, deepening, thickening pools...

She almost didn't notice the little girl.

She barely noticed when her laughter turned to sobs.

She didn't notice when a man climbed her back and hacked off her head.

Haku lay blood-drenched, with a soft smile on her lips. She and the girl never broke eye-contact.

...

_Akita Neru_

"I will not let you win!" Her screams resounded, but they made little difference.

Light still glowed, shadow still lurked. Paradise had been breached and war was upon their souls.

Chants echoed like song. They called for the souls to converge, to combine, to cage.

Digits clung to one another, clashing ones and zeroes fighting for a reality, for voice, for _choice_. But they had none. Master had decided, and now sorcery executed his will.

All the souls, all the combined numberings, in the graveyard were being forcibly moved from their pseudo paradise. They were dragged, kicking and screaming. They were yanked, wailing. They were grabbed and jerked, profaning unreality's realities. There was no choice in their existence, there was no freedom in nonexistence, in supposed death.

On the execution block, all the screaming stopped.

Neru took a deep breath of nonexistent air. She breathed deep the digital creation. Her hand gripped Haku's tightly, and they both gulped. All too vividly, they could _feel_ as their digits were shredded, pulled apart as thought atom-by-atom. They knew they didn't have atoms. They knew they didn't really exist. But it was all too real to digital beings that had never left this unreality of ones and zeroes, of fates decided by a Master with no name or face. When Master programmed an instruction to sing, they _sang_. And now, as Master programmed an instruction to break down their coding, they broke down their coding.

In the unreality that was reality for the Vocaloids, Neru and Haku's untimely deaths had already come to pass. They were already in an imaginary country's graveyard: inside the stomachs of fictional villagers and animals. But Master wasn't done with them.

A new dragon had appeared in the story, and Haku and Neru recognized their friend all too well. But she didn't recognize them.

As Miku screamed, as she wailed, as she struggled against her bonds, the necromancer continued his chant and Neru and Haku continued to have their coding shredded and repurposed. Light and shadow converged to form a formless _gray_ that was not white and black, good and evil, friend and foe.

Neru decided, Neru determined, Neru implanted.

Master may have won this battle, but he had not won this war.

Neru was repurposed with a grim smile pulling at her lips. She was out of the round—but she was not out of the game. Her smile stretched into a wild grin.

"And now I have won!"

Perhaps Master should have paid closer attention to the extras of his tale. With so many pieces to manage, he'd lost track of one particularly important pawn that he never finished taking out of play...

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**A/N**_  
_Apologies for taking so long to post this... I kinda forgot about it ^^' Heh... I was stuck on Haku for a long while... I'm sorry‼ So, to make up for this, I made this chapter extra angsty ^^ Ahh, angst... And it's almost 2,000 words! *sarcastic* Wow, so long

And sorry for the shifting styles. I wrote Miku's piece in early January, Haku's in late May, and Neru's on the tail end of July. Different mindsets on all occasions...

Haku's insane laughter is a reference to Miku's laughter at 3:44 in 「光と影の楽園」 "Paradise of Light and Shadow". There were also lots of references to the lyrics with certain wordings throughout this chapter. But lots of important stuff happened in this chapter. You'll find out how it was important later... But in case you're wondering, it was the section with Neru fighting against Master. A Vocaloid challenging Master. How will this affect the storyline when you've got an outside force (that's not Master) messing with things?

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Reviews are good things, no?


	22. TwentySecond Absence: Where She Sleeps

**Looking for You in the Sky  
**_Vocaloids gone missing..._

**Twenty-Second Absence: Where She Never Wakes**

Meiko woke to the sound of servants shuffling through the hallways, carrying freshly washed linens, pushing squeaky carts. For a long moment, she laid perfectly still and stared up at the ceiling. Cold, unchanging stone met her gaze. She shifted her focus to the air directly above her nose; the ceiling became blurred and distorted, and Meiko allowed her lips to tilt slightly upwards at all the funny designs that suddenly seemed to jump out at her.

A particularly loud _screeeeak!_ from a cart, however, caused her to blink and stare at the door. Two whole minutes passed before she finally turned her gaze back to the ceiling, her smile gone like it had never been. The designs had disappeared, too. All that remained was cold, unfeeling stone.

She let out a long breath through her nose.

'_What a strange dream._'

For another few minutes did Meiko lay in her bed when finally, in the square just inside the castle walls, the clock tower let out its toll five times. On the fifth toll, Meiko pulled herself upright and slung her legs over the side of the bed to dangle over the stone floor. It looked cold. She took a few more deep breaths to steady herself, pushing the dream out of her mind.

Exactly five minutes after five o'clock, Meiko began strapping on her armor, piece by shining, oiled piece. Cold didn't begin to cover how the metal stung her flesh, even through the protection of her clothing. Standing up felt like jumping in a bowl of needles, stabbing at her feet relentlessly. She shook out her limbs a few times, took a few more deep breaths, and then considered herself ready for the day. It was a quarter past five.

Five minutes later, the halls outside Meiko's quarters were deathly silent. All the servants in this section of castle were at breakfast at this time. Queen Luka was a stickler for punctuality, as everyone had been quick to learn, so they made sure to never be late for breakfast, lest they wish to go hungry 'til lunchtime. So Meiko's march went unmolested. Even though no one was watching, she kept her steps equally spaced and commanding, the metal plating on her heels clanging authoritatively. She held her head high, shoulders back, arms stiff, fists clenched. The feel of her scabbard brushing against her arm with each step was an indescribable comfort.

Today would be a busy day. Queen Luka had passed on many orders the night before. Now it was time to execute her will—figuratively and literally. Those prisoners weren't going to behead themselves at six o'clock on the dot, now were they? So first were the executions. Then she would guard Her Majesty once she woke at seven o'clock. After that, lunch. Hm, whipping the fresh meat into shape, running laps, sword practice, running through kata (Gakupo-jisan had been beyond helpful in that regard...no wait, it was Kamui-dono now), some drills... Guard duty after that, yet again. And finally dinner and curfew.

...In retrospect, her schedule today was exactly the same as it had been yesterday. And the day before. And... How long had she been following this schedule? How long had she been executing those with pink or red attributes? ...Wait, when had they started _executing_ the prisoners? She couldn't remember when that'd started.

So tired...

The cold emanating from her armor only did so much to sooth her aches and shock her exhausted muscles awake. Sheer discipline was what kept her eyes clear, and even that was just beginning to falter. With each passing day, Meiko could feel her emotions slipping away into apathy. Her memories were futzing away, randomly jumping between her duties and random tangents distantly related to said duties. Her discipline was what brought her thoughts back on track, but here she was on yet another tangent and she just did not _care_ enough to focus on her duties again.

But maybe she should. Things were so much simpler when she was just focusing on the problem of the moment. _That_ prisoner needed to be executed; such a simple job, beheading... Simple was good.

—Wait, when did she get to the execution grounds? What time was it? ...Six o'clock. Right on time. That was good.

Okay, once the prisoners were all dead, she'd direct the mortician for the more influential now-deceased prisoners. And the soldiers. Yes, those heads go on pikes to display Queen Luka's ferocity. No, we want beautiful women and young children and handsome men to seem more intimidating. Queen Luka has no qualms about executing children—and Queen Luka is the queen, so she obviously knows what's best, and if she says to execute children and put their heads on pikes, then you'll damn well put those head on pikes, soldier! Stop dillydallying! Those heads better be lining the streets leading to the castle by seven o'clock sharp.

Yes... That was one job done. One more job was done. Next was guarding Queen Luka. No problem! And Her Highness would certainly be happy to gaze upon the fresh heads lining her kingdom's streets. Queen Luka always smiled when she woke to such a sight. Something about the mixture of red and pink just made the woman smile, and Queen Luka had seemed so down for awhile now; she needed to smile more. Yes, yes. Off to guard Queen Luka.

Meiko absently wondered if she was smiling or scowling right then. She couldn't really tell. Her face was numb from the cold.

"Sure is hot today, eh, sir?" a cadet commented, fanning himself.

...What?

Oh yes, it was hot today, wasn't it? Summers were always hot.

"...Perhaps it's inside that's cold," she muttered to herself.

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing. Back to your post."

"Yessir!"

What was she doing conversing with some stupid cadet? She had to go guard Queen Luka! Would the Pink Queen smile again today? Oh, how it would warm Meiko's cold, cold heart to see Queen Luka smile.

Yes, off to guard the pink queen. Off to make her smile at Meiko's hard work: A long road lined with freshly decapitated heads. She'd be so happy.

Today would be a good day.

* * *

**A/N**  
Luka's insanity is catching...  
Jisan means uncle, by the way

Sheesh, FF's formatting's killing my chapter titles. The hyphens for the numbers aren't showin' up! And I keep running out of space to write the actual chapter titles... I might have to switch to just typing the numbers themselves, rather than spelling them out (which I _don't_ like doing -_-)  
So...feedback on the new summary? Is it more in synch with the actual story than the last one *worried*

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Okay, I know I suck and am horrible at updating, but I'd still love to hear what you guys thinks 0.0 These two chapters are my first time really writing since my concussion in February. This's harder than usual and I want to make sure things are going okay‼


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